


Brood-were

by Feral_Fic_Writer



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bestiality, Breeding, Breeding Bench, Cock & Ball Torture, Collars, Come Swallowing, Darkfic, Dehumanization, Derek Deserves Nice Things But He Won't Be Getting Them Here, Eggpreg, Enemas, Gang Rape, Humiliation, I Don't Know How Many More Warnings I Can Give You, Kidnapping, M/M, Magic, Monster sex, Mpreg, Non-Consensual Bondage, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Physical Abuse, Pining, Psychological Torture, Rape/Non-con Elements, Scat, Spanking, Stockholm Syndrome, There's Absolutely Nothing Fluffy In This Fic, This List Just Keeps Growing, Tickle torture, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Watersports, forced pet play, piss drinking, torture porn, verbal feminization
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-30
Updated: 2017-05-17
Packaged: 2018-06-05 11:52:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 43,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6703531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Feral_Fic_Writer/pseuds/Feral_Fic_Writer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gerard Argent has kidnapped Derek.</p><p>After years of fighting monsters Argent finds his philosophy has shifted. His new motto is "if you can't beat them, then... hold them captive, break them, and breed them to make your own army of halfbreed soldiers who can."</p><p>This is a darkfic. Will be all the way through, just look at the tags. So if you haven't the stomach for darkness, I advise you not to open this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue- The Fall

**Author's Note:**

  * For [IcyCryos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IcyCryos/gifts), [Cyberrat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cyberrat/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Rape](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/193825) by Cyberrat. 



> After years of fighting monster's Gerard Argent finds his philosophy has shifted. His new motto is "if you can't beat them...then, hold them captive, break them, and breed them to make your own army of halfbreed soldiers who can."
> 
> This is a piece done at the request of reader Icy Cryos. It's not my usual style, but I took it on as a challenge because while I am a hurt comfort kind of writer who uses hurt usually so I can get to the comfort; I do like flirting with darkness and have always been curious about how dark I could go. 
> 
> Far darker than I thought, is what I've discovered.
> 
> This piece is inspired by a prompt and a oneshot done by Cyberrat at http://cyberratting.tumblr.com/post/84816906632/gerard-argent-capturing-derek-and-making-him-his.
> 
> Permission has been obtained from Cyberat(ting) to spin off of her/his fic and no infringement on the original author's work is intended.
> 
> Again... This is a dark work. There's going to be a whole hell of a lot of hurt and little to no comfort. So please don't start down this road unless this is something you like/are looking for. If you love Derek and can't stand to see his character abused, this isn't the fic for you and I don't think I can tag this more clearly than I have. Given this, I won't appreciate being yelled at for how corrupt/perverted/sick I am.
> 
> For those of you willing to delve into the pitch black with me...
> 
> Welcome.

* * *

_This is bad._

Derek’s tear-blurred gaze drifted, following the thin clouds blinking over the wild eye of the moon. Unfortunately, the white sliver set into the stars looked too much like the bones poking through the broken skin of his shin to fully distract him.

Closing his eyes he tried to shift himself. Loose dirt from the side of the pit pattered against his clammy flesh, sprinkled and stuck to his sweat-soaked head. Derek bit back a howl of pain at what even this slight movement caused.

Nausea swept over him and he prayed he wouldn’t vomit, unable to imagine how that would hurt, what it would do to the parts of him impaled upon sharpened limbs. Against his will his eyes slitted open. Even without turning his head, he could see the wolfsbane soaked spear protruding from the juncture of his shoulder. But it was one puncturing the heavy meat of his thigh, so close to the bone, that was the truer agony.

_Stupid… Stupid…_

The pulse of the word in his brain did nothing to alleviate the ache behind his eyes or the sick twist that still held his gut. He groaned as a shiver rattled him, too familiar with the sense of shock setting in. There was little he could do to ward it off, however. And this wasn’t just due to the wolfsbane preventing his healing, or the ledge of earth above him lined with mountain ash. The whole trap had been spelled. Magic hung so heavy within the damp air of the pit, it all but choked him.

_Stupid…_

The word reverberated inside him again and Derek was too wounded and weary to fight it. Besides, it was true. It had been stupid to storm off as he had.

So what if they’d just had another exhausting clash with hunters; if the pack politics were chaos right now; if Stiles was a twinkie asshole who didn’t know when to quit? He was the pack leader: he should have stayed. Not run off like a little bitch.

He was an idiot too, not telling anyone where he was going. Especially with members of the alpha pack still tearing around loose and those rumors of a new kanima sighting. Stupider still to decide to run out his emotions so far away from any of his familiar haunts.

Clothes, phone, everything left in his car, he had shifted back to his human form a quarter mile from his vehicle at the end of his run, decided to walk back. Prick of pine needles under his feet, the bite of the night air on un-furred skin: he’d wanted the sharp sensations, needed the discomfort to settle himself.

_Well you found that in spades, now. Didn’t you?_

_Seriously, you’re the only moron I know who’d literally walk into a trap… naked._

God, Derek hated that voice. It had been making itself known ever since Kate and he’d not found a way yet to silence it.

“I just wanted to be alone… Needed some time to think,” he exhaled into the pit’s quiet.

He pulled a deep breath in through his nose. The trap’s spell tickled it dangerously, tempting him to sneeze.

_Well you really couldn’t be much more alone than you are right now, could you?_

* * *

How long had it been?

_I must have passed out._

Derek lifted his head to the scream of stiff muscles.

The  rest of his body was ice, but at least the numbness was a comfort. Above him the sea of the night had receded, the moon now watery and pale like the eye of a long-drowned man.

Sharp ears picked up the sound of footsteps up above, headed towards him. As much as he wanted to call out, he remained silent. He’d had too much experience by now to hope that what was coming would be anything benign.

Waiting, his body tensed. The ice filling his limbs shattered and the pain left Derek panting, his swollen tongue licking out between dry, blue-hued lips. But this was nothing compared to what he felt when he recognized the man rising above the lip of the pit, most likely now his grave.

“What’s this?” Gerard Argent’s eyes widened in surprise and then narrowed with a delighted wicked gleam. “Seems my trap’s caught me a pretty, stray bitch.”

Despite everything, Derek’s fangs managed to drop. He snarled at the hunter.

“You know what I do to feral dogs, don’t you, Hale?”

At the sight of the gun Argent pulled from his jacket, Derek’s thundering heart pounded harder. It felt like it exploded with the retort when Argent pulled the trigger.

Crashing into his chest the impact of the dart knocked the breath from his lungs.

Derek’s world went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading.


	2. Waking to Darkness

Derek awoke still swallowed in darkness and pain.

Head pounding, mind muzzy with what was obviously a wolfsbane hangover, it took him several minutes to remember. Once he did, he was surprised he’d regained consciousness at all.

When the memory of Gerard aiming down at him from the edge of the pit returned, Derek immediately tried to rise. Much quicker this time, the realization hit that waking might not have been the blessing he’d originally thought.

Clearly Gerard had tranked and pulled him from his trap. Stashed him somewhere.

Movement hindered, Derek stopped struggling. He stilled on the cold concrete floor so he could better assess how dire his situation really was. It didn’t bode well at all that he was still naked, bound wrists to ankles with a scant two feet allowance of connecting chain between metal cuffs. The fact the air surrounding him was impregnated with the scent of terrified were, only a fraction of this his own didn't help at all.

Even in the pitch-black that held him, Derek’s eyes quickly adjusted to the dark. What he saw chilled: his gaze caught on the frantic claw marks decorating the walls around him. For a werewolf to leave such deep grooves, they had to have been desperate. Derek dropped his eyes, looking away when he came across one track that appeared to have a fully-detached claw stuck in the base of it.

While he’d always preferred lighter fare, his mind immediately spun to the _Silence of the Lambs_ movie Stiles had once made him watch. His bowels ran cold at the thought. While Hannibal Lecter was fiction, Gerard Argent was terribly real.

Fighting to regulate his breathing, Derek forced himself to look up again. The second sweep of the spartan space revealed the room bare but for an industrial sink in one corner and a set of cabinets along the far wall. There were heavy eye-bolts embedded  in the ceiling, others in the walls. His right ankle’s shackle was connected by a short chain to a sigil-inscribed plate set into the concrete. The center of the room sported a rusted drain in the floor.

_Fuck, I hope that’s rust._

But Derek knew the truth already, because under the fear that had seeped into the stone were the mixed scents of piss, shit, come and... blood.

Lots of blood.

The seed smell too held its own warning and the realization that it wasn’t just were put a sharp twist in his gut. He pushed the possible reasons for this olfactory miasma aside. There were more important things to figure out at the moment.

Clearly he needed to get out of here, and fast.

Rolling from his side onto his knees, throbbing forehead pressed to the floor, he tested his bonds. The chains were tight and held fast. As short as the length of the links were, there was no way he’d be able to stand. Kneeling on the floor he slid his shackled wrists forward as far as they'd go and still allow his palms to be pressed flat to the ground. It was a humiliating posture; a parody of prostration.

He wanted to push himself up into a sitting position, but found the steel collar locked around his neck unbelievably heavy. Clearly spelled too: the weight of it made it nearly impossible for him to lift his head more than a foot off the floor. Exhausted already, Derek now found himself stuck in his kneeling position.

_There has to be another way to move._

After several unsuccessful attempts to shift, Derek gave up. The effort accomplished nothing but left him panting in exertion and pain. Sweat slicked his sides despite the cool air of his cell. It trickled and tickled in drops along the line of his jaw.

While it wasn’t the worst he’d ever felt physically, like a disturbed wasps’ nest his struggles had over a dozen spots on his body angrily buzzing. He’d apparently been out cold and unspelled long enough for some healing to happen but even so, his shoulder, shin, thigh, and his chest where he’d been shot, burned and ached fiercely.

Because of the collar Derek couldn’t twist his head enough to see his damaged shoulder, but dipping down he could see his chest sported a breastplate of bruise. Lower, the wound where his thigh had been pierced was nearly closed, but colored black and still weeping. There was the familiar buzzing of newly-knitted bones in his lower leg too. The skin there was still open and oozing where it had been broken.

Suddenly dizzy, he closed his eyes. His labored breaths so loud in his ears he didn’t hear the click of the door, or the sound of quiet footsteps descending down sturdy mountain ash steps. Derek picked up Gerard’s scent, however. By the time time his captor reached the final stair there was no mistaking the acrid odor of his hatred or the gamey residue left behind by the hunter's physical cancer.

His warning growl was cut short by the "click” of a light switch.  Blinded, Derek tried to pull away from the glare. But all he really managed to do, was to pull out a deep groan at what this reaction did to his battered body. He cursed internally at being caught on his knees. The vulnerability of the position twisted something sickly inside him.

Even more when his captor spoke.

“Look at you, presenting already!” Above him, Argent's’s voice was disgustingly smug, clearly reveling in finding him so compromised.

“The moment I saw you in my trap, I just knew you were going to be the one.”

_The one?_

In as much of a shift as he’d been able to manage, Derek lifted his head, fangs dropped, eyes burning, and snarled.

“Feeling feisty are you, bitch?”

Derek answered by gathering all his limited strength together and lunging as best he could, head low, teeth snapping. It was stupid thing to do, he knew: Argent standing well away from his reach.

Energy dimming already from this futile exertion, Derek was hit with a renewed sense of exhaustion. God he was tired. Had been even before he fell into the pit. All the strategizing, the politics, the fighting, the games, he was sick of it. Truthfully, when Argent had pointed the gun at him, along with the terror there’d been a certain sense of relief there too.

Lifting his head as much as he was able, Derek held the hunter’s gaze. “Cut the shit, Argent, and just kill me already.”

Gerard seemed genuinely surprised at this. But the expression only lasted a moment before being replaced by something much colder.

“Oh, no… My dear monster… If that’s what you think, you’re sorely mistaken. I’ve big plans for you. After all the harm your kind have done, it’s time for reparations to be paid.

“Even a beast can have value,” Gerard shot Derek a wicked wink, “if put to the proper use.”

Derek’s balls tried to beat a hasty retreat back inside him at the ice in these words, Argen'ts quiet emphasis on the word “proper.” Bound as he was, weakened as he was, he lived now at the man’s mercy.

And if Argent didn’t plan on killing him...

“They’ll find me…” He hated the way the words came out, more a plea than a fact.

His captor heard it too and jumped on this immediately.

“Who? That ragged rabble of misfits you call a _pack_?”

The way Gerard said “pack” with such disdain immediately had Derek growling.

“And how are they going to find you, Mutt? Did your master, Stillinski, have you chipped? He would’ve if he was really so smart. Kept better tabs on his bitch like a truly good owner would.

“No, you didn’t have the look of one particularly accounted for when I found you.”

Derek was about to reply with an eloquent “Fuck you!” but Argent’s next words left this to die in his throat.

“And now your car and everything in it has been neatly disposed of. The trap covered.

“They could stand on the very spot you were caught, your miserable crew, and never know you were there. _Should_ they bother to look, that is...”

Every word that fell from Gerard’s lips filled Derek with a deeper dread, but those last… they went straight to the dark place inside him he tried so hard to keep hidden.

_Man’s got a point. Why the fuck would they look for you, after the way you huffed off. Besides, it’s not like they’re left alpha-less with you gone. There’s Scott, now. A 'true' alpha, not some beta-turned failure._

The growl that echoed off the concrete walls was full of false conviction. Derek spoke as much to that hated voice as he did the equally hated man standing before him.

“They’ll find me.”

Disregarding the force of his growl, Gerard cocked an eyebrow, clearly skeptical.

“Maybe so. But until they do, _I have you_.”

Derek held the man’s gaze despite the shiver that sped up his spine. He fought against the increasing quake when Gerard dipped into his pocket and pull out a syringe glowing with a violet liquid. He lost his battle when Argent stepped forward to plunge the needle into his hip.

“And there’s so much to do to get you ready. Let’s get started. Shall we?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading.


	3. Collared and Cuffed

The injection didn’t help Derek’s pain at all. If anything, it amplified it. It also rendered most of his muscles liquid.

Unable to move, he was forced to lay there on the floor in the same humiliating position Argent found him in. He watched with an ever-growing sense of dread while the hunter got the room ready for whatever was about to happen.

For an old guy, one who’d been sick and almost dead half-a-dozen times, Gerard was remarkably quick. He made short work of hanging a large, black rubber sling from a couple of the ceiling's eyebolts. With others, he rigged up a quick system of pulleys.

Though immobile, Derek found he could still speak. Not that it mattered. When Argent came for him at last, he completely ignored his sharp “Don’t touch me!” to run a dry, rough hand down his sweat-slicked hide.

“Oh, now, such a growly thing.”

Gerard’s voice bordered on playful, but the following slap on the bare cheek of Derek’s ass was anything but. All lightness fled his tone. “Best you get used to your new master handling you, mutt.” Derek’s face twisted in disgust as he began to knead the reddened skin he’d just smacked in a way that was far too sensual.

Gerard smirked at how Derek stiffened and shook when he slipped his hand over the well-muscled curve of the were’s ass and stroked along his cleft. “You’re a fuzzy thing too, eh? Even unshifted.” His fingers plucked out some hairs just above Derek’s asshole.

Derek cringed at the sting; the unwanted touch. “I said get your fucking hands of me!”  He tried to wrench his unresponsive body away, careless of how much it would hurt.

“ _Bark, bark, bark!_ And here I thought you were the strong silent type. I should have known that was all a front. You’re just a yappy little lapdog at heart. Aren’t you, bitch?”

This was followed by another hard slap. Derek’s face burned with anger and humiliation almost as much as his ass did from Argent’s hand.

“Fuck you.”

“That’s no way to talk to your master.” Gerard shook his head in mock disappointment. He followed this by a spank so hard it echoed like a gunshot off the walls of the near-empty room. “But you’ll learn soon enough.”

The blow brought tears to Derek’s eyes but his growl was pure fury. “I’m going to kill you.”

He winced at the laugh he got in reply far more than he had the blows he’d received.

Disregarding the bright-blue light of his captive’s eyes Gerard said nothing in response, merely kept chuckling as he stood and stepped over to the cabinets. He opened one and brought out a thick leather collar; from another he pulled a steel bar. Moving over behind and between Derek’s legs, he kicked them apart, splaying them wider.

Derek bit back the groan at what this did to his wounds. This did nothing to dissuade Gerard  from bending down and connecting the spreader-bar between the ankle shackles, locking them about three feet apart, exposing his prisoner's balls and limp cock. Once secured, he moved up to trade the leather collar for the the steel one around Derek’s neck.

As soon as the ring fell away Derek lifted his head and spat him. It wasn’t as effective an act as it could have been, his throat and mouth were so dry.

“When my pack finds you, they’re going to eviscerate you. If I haven’t already.”

A dark look settled on the hunter's face as he studied the spot of spittle on his thigh. Then, with a quickness that left Derek dizzy, Argent struck. A hard-swung hand to his cheek knocked him over onto his side. An instant later Derek found his hair twisted in an iron grip, his neck pulled back, throat bared. Caught in such a vulnerable position he had to swallow hard to hold back his inner wolf's whimper.

Eyes blurred by the blow and the sting in his scalp, it took him a moment to realize Argent was waving the leather collar back in forth in front of him.

Leaning down, close enough to threaten, but well enough away to keep clear of any possible bite, Gerard’s voice was filled with venom.

“I should muzzle you for that, mutt! But this might help you learn your manners faster while you wait for that _dear_ pack of yours.”

The words about his pack went right to Derek’s deepest fears: how Stiles and the others would respond to his disappearance, about what his true place was among his small band. But rather than linger on this, he had bigger things clamoring for his attention.

Argent had continued to dangle the new collar before him and Derek's eyes widened when he noticed the tiny spikes that lined the inside of it. The moment his captor knew he'd seen these, his hair was released and his head shoved down.

Gerard made quick work securing the stiff leather band.

Cinched tight enough to pinch, at the constriction around his neck and the prick of the spikes Derek panicked. He started to yell, but as soon as the sound welled in his throat his body seized. It trembled, muscles rigid from the sudden shock that coursed through him. The pain had his body convulsing. Belly down against the concrete Derek screamed louder but the sound only kept the shocks coming.

Standing back, arms folded across his chest, Gerard watched with a self-satisfied grin until finally Derek’s voice gave out; the werewolf’s already wounded body taxed too much for its healing abilities to keep up with the damage being done to its throat. 

Derek’s lungs burned. Black dots swam at the corners of his vision. The electrically induced seizing had every muscle screaming. His bladder let go. Hot piss streamed and puddled beneath him.

When the shocks finally ceased he was left pulling in huge gasping breaths that the cool damp of the chamber’s air did nothing to soothe. He pushed himself back up on his knees, locking himself low in a semi-fetal position. Rough, silent sobs shook his muscular frame.

Looming above, Gerard was thankful again for both the holding spells and the faerie bone-ash he’d mixed into the basement’s concrete. Either would have kept his lair soundproofed but the combination fully ensured it.

“Feel like making any more racket?”

It was important the monster learned quickly the extent of its circumstances. “Come on… Howl a little more for me. Arooooo!”

At his mockery of a wolf’s howl, the werewolf’s body shuddered harder. It pleased Gerard to see it breaking down already. He smirked with satisfaction thinking this shouldn’t be such a surprise: all monsters were weak somehow, and the one called Derek Hale weaker than most.

His eyes roamed over the young, sleek, sweat-slicked body. Gerard uncrossed his arms and moved a hand to adjust himself. Cock filled from the sounds of its tortured screams and the monster’s convulsing, he’d been amazed, really, just how arousing its suffering was.

None of the others had affected him so strongly.

Gerard dropped his hand. It left his cock throbbing but he had other things to attend to right now. However, he didn’t berate himself for his arousal. Indeed, it was actually going to prove most helpful to his plans in the long run.

And he’d have plenty of time to indulge later.

Letting the were sob himself out, Gerard turned and gathered the rest of the supplies he needed from the cabinets. He donned a slick vinyl apron to keep himself neat. His son was due to visit in a bit, after all, and when Chris arrived he didn’t want to look too disheveled.

Galoshes and latex gloves came next. A hose with an adjustable nozzle fitted to the spigot of the sink, taps turned on. Gerard looked over his preparations and decided he was ready. Turning back, he saw his newest stray still hadn’t regained itself.

“Enough whining, dog!” A brisk kick to the monster’s belly stole its breath. Gerard sighed, pleased not to have to listen to its rough, rasped sobs any longer.

“Rollover.”

Another kick turned it, gasping, onto its back. Seeing the revealed puddle that had formed under it, he realized the creature had pissed itself while being shocked. His lips curled into a sneer.

"I knew werewolves were dirty, but you really are a filthy little bitch. Not even housebroken. But I'll fix that.  And lucky for you, I’d already planned to clean you up.”

Gerard moved around his private dungeon with practiced ease. This wasn’t the first time he’d done this and experience had definitely improved his efficiency. Within minutes he had the chain from the floor to Derek’s ankle unlocked. Coiled cables ran from the pulleys now latched to wrists and ankle shackles. Gerard attached these to a portable winch.

The cables tightened, wound slowly up. Derek’s face contorted in pain. His injured leg and shoulder lifted off the ground, strained by the weight of the rest of his paralyzed body. Blood trickled from the side of his mouth as he pierced his tongue, biting down on it to keep from screaming again. 

Maneuvering his prize over to the sling and into it, Gerard made sure his captive’s back just barely grazed its surface, providing as little support as possible.

Derek’s head rolled back, straining his well-muscled neck as he continued to fight howling in pain.

Gerard let his prize dangle, reveling in the way the monster’s ripped belly heaved. The pulse visible in its beautifully strained throat was frantic. Reaching into the pocket of his slacks he pulled out a small black remote. He caressed it and then pressed a button. A loud laugh escaped him watching the werewolf stiffen and seize. The shock made the chains and cables dance along with its limbs, turning his new pet into a toy, a grotesque mockery of a marionette.

Once he released the button, he waited for the haze in the green eyes to clear.

“Nice to know I have your attention.” He held the remote up for it to see. “Just thought you might like to know that collar you’re wearing… It’s not just a bark collar.”

He slipped up beside the suspended monster. Setting his fingertips upon a hard pec, Gerard watched the muscle ripple as the beast cringed away from his touch. He pinched a nipple. Eyes fixed on how it hardened between his fingers, he gave it a vicious twist.

“It’s good for correcting other unwanted behaviors too.”

Derek’s back arched at the sharp sensation. The cables overhead rattled. Gerard withdrew his hands and moved over to the cabinets. He pulled out a small portable radio, turned it on to a classical station, volume set on low.

“I like to have some company when I work and, since it’s in your best interest to be quiet right now...”

He returned to the were with a plastic container. After unscrewing the top, he set jar on his captive’s tremoring torso, using it as a table. He dipped a gloved hand into the jar and once he had scraped out a fair amount of a foul smelling cream, began to slather this over soiled, sweating skin.

“Besides, you might like this… the music, I mean. They do say it soothes the savage beast, after all.” Gerard grinned and then allowed the smile to drop. “This however,” he wiggled his coated fingers. “This might burn a bit before we’re done.

“But a bitch should be smooth, I think. Easier to keep you clean too.”

The horror-struck look on the were’s pained face delighted him. “Oh… You’re proud of being hirsute? Hmmm… Well, yes, I imagine that apeman look went a ways to prop up that poor alpha facade of yours.”

From the base of the monster’s collared neck down, his gloved hands smoothed over every bit of its skin, there wasn’t an inch left inviolate. As he worked Gerard continued to taunt.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get used to being bare. I bet you’ll come to love it even. Besides, you should be grateful… People pay top dollar for this kind of thing. The difference with my treatment is that after a few applications it’s permanent. ”

He took extra time fondling the were’s heavy balls as he rubbed the cream on. “You know, someday you might even beg me to use this on that ugly snout of yours.”

Gerard chuckled at the low, quiet unhappy whines escaping from his new project’s throat, the way it winced, not having determined yet what sounds and volume would set the collar off again.

Despite the pain, the humiliation, Derek’s body reacted to the prolonged rubbing. The disgust he felt at what Argent was doing to him and the coarse hand rolling his balls wasn’t enough to keep the blood from throbbing into his cock.

Gerard hadn’t expected his captive to be so sensitive. He watched the were’s dick stiffen with amused interest, although he wasn't quite sure how he felt discovering his new pet's true size. While the creature’s cock hadn’t been overly remarkable flaccid, filled it had to measure no less than nine inches.

“Such a little slut,” he gave the stiff cock a hard slap. “Too bad you’re not going to need this. A bitch has no use for a cock, after all.”

Derek gasped and bucked his hips at the blow, this response only egged Gerard on.

Derek's system was fighting the drug he’d been injected with. With what little mobility he'd regained Derek twisted and turned as much as he could, trying to dodge the painful rain of blows. His erection didn’t lessen, however. Suddenly Derek stilled from his struggles, brought to a fast halt when the hunter gripped his cock hard, squeezing it painfully.

Using the were’s cock to hold its bound body in place, Gerard gathered more cream and spread it down the crack of its ass. When it tried to buck away again as his gloved fingers rubbed thoroughly around its exposed, puckered hole, he squeezed harder.

“Hold still.”

A pitiful growled sob met his ears, beautifully accompanied by the sonata playing in the background. “You better get used to being touched like this, dog. I have plans for you and this filthy hole of yours has a starring role.”

The werewolf's head snapped up at this. It pleased Gerard immensely that while hate still raged in its eyes, fear’s fire was truly there now too, and burned just as bright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Your comments and kudos are very appreciated.


	4. Put Away Wet

Argent’s words filled Derek with horror - they pulled the blood from his cock right into his chilled core. He had little time to dwell on them, however.

The hunter cranked the winch, pulling him up high enough off the sling he was completely suspended by his wrists and ankles again. The pain was excruciating. Argent ignored Derek's labored breathing and, as soon as there was adequate room, covered the entire backside of his body with the cream as well.

Silent tears of relief mixed with Derek’s pained ones when the violating hands finally left him. Fearing they’d soon return, his eyes anxiously followed his captor's movements.  He watched Argent pick up the hose with mounting dread.

Not looking at Derek, fiddling with what looked like a miniature fire-hose nozzle, Gerard casually asked, “Feeling it yet?”

 _He was_ \- not that Derek could answer.

His whole skin crawled from the chemicals’ bite, it stung deep where his flesh was still opened. The wounds from his fall into the pit were on fire. Likewise, the slowly healing abrasions left where skin had scraped cement during the throes of the collar’s first shocks. By the time Argent turned the water on him Derek’s erection had waned completely, slain by this new pain as much as his fear. The rest of his flesh, however, was conflicted: caught between the burn of the dipilatory elixir and the freezing spray pummeling him.

As the stream rushed over his skin, inside, Derek’s hatred roiled. It was maddening, held helpless, watching the bastard hose him down; the hunter’s manner completely unhurried, like a man washing his car on a lazy weekend.

Droplets bounced up from Derek’s chest, struck his cheeks, caught in his eyelashes. He blinked them away. Licking cracked lips as the moisture misted them, the moment his tongue tasted water a new flame crackled to life. Suddenly, more than his fury, he was consumed with a deep, aching thirst.

Argent moved the hose higher.

Derek closed his eyes. He opened his mouth and tried to suck in as much of the spray as he could without choking. He was so focused on quenching his thirst, he didn’t realize his actions had been observed by his captor. Moments later he did choke when Argent pulled a reinforced rubber gag from some pocket of his apron and shoved it between his jaws.

Gerard chuckled when the monster’s eyes snapped open. Piercing green, they bored furiously into him as it chomped and growled at the bit while he fastened it.

“No drink for you. Not yet. That’s not how it works. A bitch takes what’s it’s given.” Initially scolding, his tone quickly dissolved into something far more dangerous. “This is your first and most important lesson. You have no say over _anything_ now.

“I determine when you eat, when you drink, when you piss or shit.” Gerard pinched his captive’s flaring nostrils shut, now that his latexed hands were safe from the possibility of a bite.

“Even whether or not you _breathe_ is my decision.”  His grip relaxed only after his point had been made and his bound bitch had truly begun to panic, unable to pull in enough air around the gag to keep from feeling suffocated.

“You belong to me - body and soul.” Gerard snorted and corrected himself. “Or you would, _if_ abominations like you had a soul.”

Happy with how the gag held, he dipped down and retrieved the hose from where he’d dropped it. Re-adjusting the nozzle to a hard concentrated stream, he resumed his washing. Whistling along with the radio, Gerard stepped between spread legs and directed the hard spray where the beast was most vulnerable.

When the cold water hit his balls with the impact of a linebacker, even behind the gag Derek shrieked; he couldn’t help it. It tore at his tender skin. His testicles instantly shrank and tried to crawl back up inside him. At his cry, the shock of the collar only hastened their retreat. Hot against frigid flesh, his dick leaked more urine.

Derek clamped his jaws. His fangs dropped, embedding themselves in the rubber as he fought to silence himself. When the pulse of the current ceased and some mobility returned to him, he thrashed, twisting to lift his hips in an effort to spare his tortured sac. Unfortunately Argent proved too adept at directing the flow.  

When at last he tired of torturing the werewolf’s balls, Gerard switched tactics. He chuckled softly when the concentrated spray knifed his new bitch’s shriveled cock. He could have easily entertained himself like this for hours but, regretfully, he knew at the moment his time was limited. It wouldn’t be too long before Chris stopped by for his nightly check in. And if he wasn’t upstairs, his dutiful son would inevitably come looking for him.

Annoyed with the fact his family felt he needed looking after, before he dropped the hose, he shot the hard stream right at the beast's asshole; his ire slightly assuaged by another muffled yell and the animal’s resulting shock.

While his bound bitch still twitched, momentarily catatonic from the pain, Gerard turned the hose off with a sigh. He tossed it aside so his hands were free as he went to check and see if the concoction he’d applied had done its job and how thoroughly. Eager to revel in his _improvements_ , he stripped his hands of their latex with a “snap” so he could feel the beast’s skin.  

Derek came to from his latest electrocution with Argent's hands crawling all over his body. It left him shivering as much as the shock: those wizened, callused fingers on his skin, tracing the curve of his muscles in mute appraisal. They lingered over his full pectorals and flicked his pebbled nipples before trailing down the ridges of his abdomen.

Leaving a trail of sullied skin in their wake, devoid of hair, every follicle washed off, never in his life had Derek felt so naked. Or so sensitive.

When the hunter moved and lowered his tortured body back down into the sling, a relieved whimper escaped Derek's lips. However, the relief was fleeting since Argent hastily returned to his side.

Gerard was simply unable keep his hands off his newest acquisition’s glossy hide.  “Look at you, my little baby-skinned bitch… So bare.” Each word was punctuated with a caress of shamefully exposed skin.

He palmed the were’s taut, heaving belly, smoothing the already impossibly sleek flesh. He ghosted over the soft, pale skin now revealed at the base of its cock.

“You’re not going to be able to hide anything from your master now. Or ever.”

Despite how much he hated Argent and his smug tone or how desperate the words made him feel, Derek’s cock again responded to the touch. It started inching upwards as if asking for more, giving fresh flesh for the hunter to finger and make his own.

“What have we here?” Gerard growled. “Filthy beast. I knew you'd be wanton.”

The digits so sensually stroking caught the rousing dick between them and suddenly pinched. _Hard._ Ignoring his captive's pained groan, Gerard dipped his head, attention caught by something. Dropping the were’s cock he took hold of its balls instead and pulled these upwards.

Derek’s body started with a jolt that set the whole sling swinging when Argent's hand disappeared and a moment later he felt it swipe over his asshole. It was astounding, given his circumstances, that he could feel any more humiliated. Nonetheless, hot blood rushed to his cheeks when Argent's hand lifted and he saw it was soiled.

While inside, Gerard was delighted that the combination of water and the shocks had this effect on the animal, on the surface he kept his face impassive before shifting it into a scowl.

“Like I said…” He wiped his fingers off, dragging shit from the base of the were’s lower ribs diagonally over washboard to settle in a swirl at a hollow of hip. “Filthy… Just filthy.”

Bending to retrieve the hose once again, Gerard washed off his fingers.

The smell of his shit filled Derek’s sensitive nose. He closed his eyes against the stink and the shame. He knew it was impossible, but the swath of waste Argent marked him with seemed to burn his skin far more than the depilatory chemicals.

His ears rung with the words, _“Filthy... Just filthy”,_ playing over and over inside his head. The worst part, not just in these, but in every word Argent had uttered so far, was that the beat of the hunter's heart told Derek his captor completely believed the truth of everything he’d said.

Lost in his shame, Derek didn’t sense his captor moving again, drawing closer to where his legs were raised, his loose balls resting heavy and full against his taint. His eyes snapped open however, when a bare hand grabbed them and lifted once more.

Derek bucked, struggling furiously when the cold steel nozzle of the hose bumped against his asshole. He was stilled by a sharp slap to the inside of his thigh, his wet skin accentuating the sting.

“Hold still!” Gerard hissed. “Struggling will only make it harder on you. Not that that matters to me, but your pathetic squirming is annoying.”

Squeezing his eyes shut, behind the gag Derek let out a low growling groan as the nozzle shoved into him. Bound hands fisted in pain and impotent rage as the cold metal forced his resisting hole open. He felt tissue tear. Despite the snot in his nose from crying and the shit on his stomach, he smelled bright copper.

Gerard knew the cry was coming and he’d used the remote moments earlier to turn the collar off. Right now he wanted to drink in the monster’s tortured sounds like a fine wine. It was a brilliant accompaniment to the visual feast he was partaking of. The hunter couldn’t tear his eyes away from watching the mouth of the animal’s ass kiss the dripping nozzle, shrink in grimace, and then suck it inside as he pressed. Pulling the brass fixture out slightly he saw blood and shit on its shine and smiled.

This was one case where weres’ repairative biology was going to serve him well.

“Such a sweet little cunt.” His eyes darted up to the beast’s anguished face. Slowly he pumped the nozzle in and out. “Tell me, bitch, did you ever touch yourself here? Ever let anyone fuck you? Or have you been saving this hole for someone? Stilinski, maybe?”

At the mention of Stiles' name Derek’s whole body went rigid. Even in the midst of the pain a deep blush bled down his neck into his chest. It was horrible, bringing the image of his 'crush' into his mind at a time like this: bowels aching, overcome with the overwhelming urge to shit.

“Ah, I was right…” It incensed Gerard that a beast like this thought it had any right to even consider trekking with humans, even one as flawed as Stilinski. His thoughts turned to his beautiful daughter, so much like him, not bound up with his son’s ridiculous mores.

Suddenly furious at how this _thing_ had debased Kate; the sacrifices she’d had to make to get close enough to burn out the Hale's disgusting den; the way that she died at the tainted claws of one of these despicable creatures - he shoved the nozzle deep and twisted.

The last half of Prokofiev’s  Scythian Suite, _Pursuit Of The Evil God_ , played in the background, but the howl that accompanied the rape of the beast’s virgin hole, _this_ , this was the purer music to his ears. Gerard plunged the nozzle deep into his new bitch’s bleeding ass harder and deeper in time to the tempo. Excrement oozed around the false phallus. Small globs of it fell with thick, sticky sounds to the concrete.

This only made Gerard more rabid.

“God, you’re so full of filth! You disgusting thing!

“Lucky I saw this. Untrained as you are, who knows what kind of mess you’d have made once I left?!" 

Pulling the hose out completely, he wiped the tarry nozzle against a quaking thigh leaving a brown stripe on faultless skin. Inserting the tip into the animal’s abused hole again and adjusting it, Gerard turned the water back on. Dereked roared behind the gag and tried to pull away as an icy flood surged into his bowels.

Following the beast’s bound body, Gerard shoved the hose in farther. “Such a fuss! I don’t even have it turned on all the way.”

The pressure was unbearable; it was like being gutshot. Derek had no doubt if he’d been human his colon would have ruptured. Craning his head forward, he watched his belly swell. The thought of the water being forced in at any higher volume had him frantic. He was too miserable, in too much pain to give a second thought to the broken, begging sounds that spilled from his ravaged throat.

When it seemed his beseeching whines had not only reached his captor’s ears but had been heeded, the relief was crushing. But to Derek’s horror as soon as the flow was turned off, the instant the hose was removed, his ass was immediately intruded again.

Gerard pulled a sizeable plug from his seemingly bottomless apron pockets and brutally shoved it inside of him in one forceful stroke. He held the plug in place, dealing blistering slaps to the bitch’s ass every time it wiggled. Just as he’d hoped, within minutes the were’s healing had its bald asshole shrunk tight around the thick, black rubber.

He knew that with the size and the shape of the plug, it wasn’t going to be going anywhere now until he pulled it out himself. His lips curled into a satisfied grin at the damage that would do, the new pain this would bring.

After washing his hands once more Gerard hosed down the area under the sling, but he left the whining beast hanging, shit still smeared across its bloated, distended stomach. He clicked the radio silent. Then he casually he pulled the apron off revealing the huge tent in his trousers. Undisturbed by this, however, Gerard continued on. It had been ages since his cock had been so hard. It felt incredible, the pent up ache that filled him.  He could get used to this, the potent feel of virility.  

He hung his apron neatly on a wall-peg before stepping out of his galoshes, put the remainder of the cream away, discarded his used latex gloves, rolled the hose up and hung it by the sink. All the while he was tidying Gerard listened to the pained live music made of the trussed animal behind him. The beast breathed heavily, panting as best it could around the gag. Every few labored breaths were punctuated by a low, pained whine.

Everything attended to for the moment, Gerard stepped back over to the sling. The image of its portending future, he walked his fingers over the bitch’s bulging belly, carefully skirting the excrement he’d marked it with. Occasionally he pressed down, relishing the hitched gasps or growling sobs this elicited.

As he traced the curve of the animal’s swollen stomach, Gerard released his leaking dick with his free hand and stroked it. He moved again, walking as he jerked himself until he was standing right beside the bitted-bitch’s suffering face. Past the feverish haze of pain and abject humiliation the animal’s eyes, it registered the weeping cock inches from its cheek. The dark head feebly attempted to pull away but even this slight motion obviously diverted the were’s attention once more to the agonizing fullness of its bowels.

A few furious pulls, eyes taking in the exquisite suffering before him, and Gerard erupted. Milky seed coated the dark, wet head, it caught in thick, long lashes. Drenching the full cracked lips strained around the gag, he imagined it seeping in at the corners of the beast’s mouth, the salt of his seed irritating its parched throat further.

Once his dick stopped twitching he wiped it against a stubbled, tear-stained cheek. Gerard winced at the prickle of whiskers against his oversensitive cockhead. Then he tucked himself away and zipped up.

Reaching over he gave the heaving chest a couple quick pats.

“Stay.”

Ready to meet his son now Gerard turned and made his way to the stairs, laughing softly as he climbed.

Just before he switched off the light and stepped out, closing the door and locking it behind him, he said under his breath,“There’s a good bitch,” knowing full well the beast would hear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading.


	5. A Terrible Waste

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "It took Gerard nearly an hour to rid himself of his son."  
> And it took thirteen pages for me to make Derek poop. (Talk about anal retentive.)
> 
> You can thank IcyCryos for the rapidity of these updates. 
> 
> Hope you "enjoy" the new chapter.

* * *

It took Gerard nearly an hour to rid himself of his son.

While they had very differing opinions on how to deal with monsters, he still cared for Chris and they both agreed that family was of utmost importance. Opening the door to the basement he sighed. Sometimes, however, he wished his son wasn’t so damn attentive.

It had been difficult to sit and pretend everything was boringly normal, that he was settling in well to his new house and his false retirement from hunting. It was too bad he couldn’t share his newest 'post-hunting' hobby with his son, but he knew Chris didn’t have the capacity some would for appreciating what he was doing.

More the pity, but at least he took comfort in the fact he already had others who’d be only too eager for what he had to share. When he was ready to, that was. The beast still had so much to learn, still needed to be properly trained first.

At the thought of this Gerard sighed again, but this time in anticipation. His hand drifted to his clothed cock. He felt like a teenager. Despite the fact he’d recently come, he’d been half-hard throughout most of his obligatory ‘family time’ and, even now, the mere thought of what waited for him below had quickly pushed him to full hardness.

Just inside the basement door he flicked on a dim overhead bulb. His balls felt heavy and tight, ready to seed again. He was acutely aware of the throb of his dick, the way it bobbed in his loose-fronted trousers as he descended.

While eager to return to his project, he stopped at the foot of the stairs. Lingering here a few moments he allowed the delicious excitement build. Pausing, he was also able to admire the masterfully crafted illusion spell that cast an unassuming cloak about the room. A precaution in case anyone unwanted ventured down, even to him, coming down the stairs, it merely looked like he was entering a comfortable hunter’s 'man cave.'

Standing near the foot of the stairs, his eyes saw warm, wood-paneled walls sporting a variety of gun racks and shadow-frames holding ancient weapons. There were also shelves filled with spellbooks and ammo boxes, a mounted kanima head, and push-pinned maps with locations of sighting spots and spirit routes.

The room held a set of comfortable looking chairs and several small work benches, each dedicated to a different purpose. There was a station for re-loading, another for simple potions. A third looked like it was in the middle of a project, its surface covered with small handtools and shavings from the carving of wooden creatures.

Gerard snorted at the ruse: as if he would ever engage in such a banal activity.

Still, pattering on about his new craft seemed to reassure his son he was behaving himself in his ‘convalescence.’ He’d done enough research to know the terms, talk about it with some skill. He’d even found a folk-artist three states over to procure his new ‘creations’ from. Little wooden monsters to pass on to his family to keep them from getting suspicious.

It was a perfect facade and gave him the opportunity to focus on his true ‘creature carving.’

His dark eyes dropped to follow real, beige linoleum tiles. These stretched three feet out from the last step. They stopped there. Crossing over that point would split the veil of illusion, revealing the truth that lay beyond, his true hobby room.

Unable to restrain himself any longer, Gerard stepped down onto the tile with a spring in his step. As always, the magic prickled a bit as he moved through the spell. Cast as it was, anyone else would get a vague feeling of unease and quickly lose interest in venturing further.  

On the other side, the room’s darkness was broken only by the upper stairwell light bleeding through. He had been careful to craft the spell this way too: so that he could see and hear anyone who opened the door and be warned, while while those coming down would be both blind and deaf to his activities until they passed the enchantment’s threshold.

Flicking the low light on in his true playroom, the second his bound bitch was fully revealed once more the hunter couldn’t help but murmur, “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

And it was.

Every muscle of the monster was strained and trembling. It’s slick, smooth hide wept sweat. Rivulets trickled down from the peak of the beast’s bloated belly. Gerard was pleased to note the swell had not decreased by much.

As he’d learned from his other projects, despite weres’ rapid healing, although their guts did process some of the water when he left them filled, enough to keep them internally hydrated, for some reason their intestines didn’t go into overdrive and completely absorb the water he pumped into them.

Perhaps it was because their bodies didn’t recognize this as truly injurious, in spite of the pain, or maybe it sensed that, if it did absorb all the fluid, the result would likely be water-poisoning. Gerard pushed these speculations away in lieu of his favorite pet theory, that this was actually because this bitch, like all the others, truly longed to be filled.

Luckily for them, he was more than happy to accommodate.

Derek had no idea how long Gerard had been gone, but every second that passed had been excruciating. His limbs screamed at him from immobility and the suspension. His body had exhausted itself, working against whatever drugs the man had injected him with while at the same time trying to continue healing all his wounds.

Worse than these things, however, was the pressure in his guts. Even before the hunter had stepped from the room, Derek had been valiantly trying to expel the plug holding his body hostage. But his very flesh seemed against him: every contracted muscle heightened the pressure below, every attempt to push the violating object loose met with strict resistance from his rapidly healed sphincter.

Left alone in the dark, all he’d managed to accomplish was more pain, more shame, and more feelings of hopelessness at his situation. Never in his life had Derek felt so violated, humiliated, desperate. His entire being reduced now to an all consuming need to shit.

Every second of the eternity the hunter had been gone, Derek had been sure he was going to implode, that something internal would rupture. The sensation was so overwhelming, at this point he was praying something would. Anything. Anything to bring him relief.

During the hunter’s absence, the shock feature on his collar had remained off but this had been far from an act of mercy. Behind the gag, Derek had futilely screamed himself mute not long after Gerard left. Now, however, his vocal cords had repaired themselves enough he could make sounds again. Even so, he couldn’t bring himself to any real volume, his throat so dry all but the barest vibrations in it were agony.

The moment his captor reappeared Derek began writhing in desperation. He wasn’t thinking about pride or pack, he didn’t care that he was openly weeping. He just needed this to stop.

Within seconds he had to still himself again as the motion only made his sloshing guts even more painful.

Gerard stepped back up to the beast’s head, admiring the tears running down its cheeks, the way these broke through the glossy patches of his dried semen. It’s eyes were fever-bright with pain. Wide and pleading. This sight and it’s pitiful whimpers only made his cock throb harder.

The hunter took his thumb, and in a mockery of gentleness, traced a chiseled cheekbone, smoothed away the falling tears. The monster’s eyes stared into his. There was no posturing this time, no rebellion, just vivid, verdant pools filled with torment and a silent plea for it to end.

But it wasn’t going to.

It was clear the beast realized this when Gerard watched its thick, wet lashes flicker, the bruised-looking lids close, and the creature turn its head to the side, as if these actions could shelter it from his smirk.

New tears trickled from the corners of tightly shut eyes. Gerard wiped these away too,  chuckling softly as he watched the were shudder at the touch. Then he slipped his hand behind the sweat-wet head and undid the muzzle’s buckles.

The bitch didn’t do anything but groan and eagerly open its mouth allowing him to extract the thick rubber bit. “Good dog.  Already learning to open your mouth whenever your master wants.” The praise elicited a half-choked sob from the beast, and a surge of fresh tears.

Gerard stuck the gag back into an apron pocket, but not before studying the depths of the teeth marks the creature had made in it, the rubber all but torn through in several places. It was practically ruined, but the hunter was pleased nonetheless: it was going to make such a wonderful momento. Looking back up, his new pet was carefully working stiff jaws. When it felt his eyes upon it, it stilled.

“Please…”

Exhaled on a breath, the creaturing winced as he uttered it, obviously pained and obviously expecting a slap. The word was rough and raw and so beautifully begged.

Gerard ignored it.

Instead, he moved away to re-don his gear. No need to get messy after all, even if the rest of the night was his. Besides, when dealing with beasts, maintaining sanitary conditions was of utmost importance. As he leisurely strapped the apron and slipped into the galoshes, behind him, the bitch began raggedly crying. A small smile curled Gerard’s lips: he could only imagine how this heaving would exacerbate the animal’s discomfort.

He took his time as he prepared again, it wouldn’t do to get himself dirty. Plus, it was important for these next steps for the bitch to be in a truly broken state. Gerard was rewarded when he stepped over, hose in hand once again. The were’s eyes shot open when he pressed the nozzle to a budded nipple, eyes swirling in a kaleidoscope of anticipated pain. At this, the desperate, broken keening the sight of the hose provoked, his full dick twitched and spat precome.

“Hush,” he ordered, immensely pleased when the bitch fell almost immediately silent with a choked sob.

“Here’s what’s going to happen now.” Dragging the nozzle downwards, Gerard traced the curve of swollen stomach. He pressed the tip just lightly into the stretched skin and revelled in the way the animal threw its head back at even this slight pressure, exposing a glorious expanse of vulnerable throat shuddering with its labored breaths.

Gerard decided he should consider getting a real video camera for these training sessions. The grimace on the monster’s face was magnificent. Certainly worthy of capturing and preserving.

The hunter pressed again, harder this time, relishing his captive’s pained gasping. “You are going to be a good dog and do as your new master says. _Exactly_. Otherwise I am going to leave you here, as you are, for the next eight hours.”

Lifting the nozzle he admired the indentation it made in the taut flesh, red against paling summer-tanned skin. The mark had Gerard suddenly thinking about ways to permanently brand his bitch. But that was for later. Now he slid the hose over to the other side, dragging it through the dried shit, drawing new lines on the beast's strained belly before he pressed in again.

“Tell me you understand, Dog.”

The reply came just as quickly as Gerard hoped it would.

“Yes.”

The word was said softly but there was still venom in it. Still, the hunter wasn’t entirely unhappy. It was a step in the right direction.

“ _Yes_ , what?”

He sighed at the animal’s stupidity when the question was met with a look of confusion. “Who am I, Bitch?”

Derek’s stomach churned with more than water when he realized what the hunter wanted.

_Master._

His mind screamed at him to stay silent, to die before uttering such blasphemy. Derek’s body  roared louder, however. Another cramp punched his bowels. They’d been getting steadily worse and they were already excruciating.

He told himself they were just words and no one but he and Argent would ever know he’d said them.

_That’s right… show him he’s right… you are a little bitch. He knows it… Just like everyone else. Come on rollover and show your belly. Oh, wait, you already are. Pathetic._

Hearing that dreaded inner voice made Derek hesitate. It had been sneering things like this within him the entire time the hunter had been gone.

It took an amazing amount of effort to silence it now, but the thought, the thought of having to stay like this another eight hours… Derek gritted his teeth against a new twist in his gut.

“Yes, _Master_ …”

The words were hissed. Gerard frowned. He’d work on the bitch’s tone later, but for now, the deep blush on the were’s pale cheeks, a clear sign of its humiliation, was enough.

He threw the hose to the side for a moment. “Good dog. Now I am going to lower you down and you’re going to crawl over to that drain.” He nodded over to the grate in the floor. “And you’re going to present your ass to me like a proper bitch. I want your forearms and elbows pressed to the floor. Knees on the ground, legs spread wide and your slutty monster ass up.”

Stepping around quickly between the beast’s legs, Gerard took hold of the end of the plug and gave it a tug. It had been laying heavy against Derek’s previously untouched prostate and the pressure had been maddening, but this sudden friction had his hips bucking reflexively at the jolt that shot through him. His strained anus was stretched even more.

“Fuck!” The roar of this exclamation burned Derek’s raw, ravaged throat.

“Tell me…” Gerard punctuated the command by pressing the plug back in now.

Another spark flared within him as his prostate was stroked again. Derek felt the fluid inside him seep around the horrible object that had been tormenting him so ruthlessly. He hadn’t thought the urge to relieve himself could get any stronger, but just that slight slippage made his bowels feel even looser.

“Fuck!” Derek shouted again. His eyes rolled back into his head, mind and body overwhelmed with too many sensations. “Yes!...M-master.”

Anything to escape this hell, if only for a few minutes.

Gerard worked the plug back and forth a few more times, astounded at how tightly the were’s healing had locked the rubber into it. Dropping his gaze, he noted that visible above the beast’s heavy sac, his whorish hound was getting aroused by the motion.

“I always figured you’d be a pain slut…” he muttered, giving the plug several additional harsh thrusts.”And I see I’m right.”

He continued for several agonizing minutes, ignoring the animal’s howled protests, watching as his beast grew steadily erect, the anal stimulation mingling with the humiliating urge to defecate. It was only when the tip of the bitch’s swollen cock was steadily oozing, a stream rolling down its full nine inches, that he released the end of the plug.

Derek had been appalled to feel himself harden. Impossible to consider anything about this violation arousing, his body’s betrayal devastated him. As the hunter had continued to pump the plug into him, he feared he would lose his mind; the pain combined with the relentless stroking of whatever it was inside of him so beyond anything he’d ever experienced. He could feel his balls drawing up, precome leaking and running down his engorged shaft.

It wasn’t pleasurable, wasn’t like any kind of coming he'd known, but he realized he was on the verge of ejaculating when suddenly the friction stopped.

The ache in his groin was acute, but just one more to add to an already extensive list. It was seeing the hunter step away that truly rendered him frantic, suddenly convinced that despite his pledge to be _good_ , Argent was going to leave him like this. The thought rocked him so deeply he couldn’t have stopped the whine that churned in his battered throat even if he’d tried.

Gerard heard it, of course, and looked back with a smirk. “What? Miss your master already, do you? What a sweet little bitch.

“Don’t worry, Dog,” He ambled over to the drain and removed its grated top. “I’m far from done with you.”

Deep inside Derek knew that he should be terrified but instead he found himself sobbing softly in relief when the hunter returned to his side.

The portable winch creaked and his sobs grew louder as he and the sling were lowered to the floor. He should have been out of tears by now, but the relief when his strained limbs kissed the concrete at last was almost heavenly. Gerard talked at him throughout the whole process, and Derek tried as best he could to pay attention to what was being said, but it was so difficult.  

He was overcome, overwhelmed, exhausted, beyond anything he’d ever known.

There was no rest allowed, however, he’d hardly been on the ground long enough for Gerard to disconnect the cables when a sharp slap to his flank had Derek scrambling up. Or as up as he could get, at least, ankles still shackled to the spreader bar, the connecting chains still linking him hands to feet.

“Mush you big husky!” Gerard laughed and dealt another stinging blow. This one caught Derek’s ass, glancing off the plug.

Yelping, he struggled in an awkward approximation of a crawl, nearly falling over half a dozen times in the short distance from the sling to the drain.  As he moved, he was reminded of how hairless he was, any place his body brushed, the smooth slide of bare skin against skin. It made him feel as weak and vulnerable as an infant.

Belly hanging low, now he was facing downward, it was so swollen every movement was awkward and painful. Derek's stomach audibly sloshed with each incremental lurch forward. His dick was still hard and bobbed uncomfortably, glancing off his distended belly as he moved. His cock jiggled like a puppet, connected by a stretched string of precome between his stomach and tip.

By the time he made it to his destination his heart pounded and he was panting heavily from  exertion.

“Present!”

For a moment it crossed Derek’s mind to balk at the barked command, but the thought of getting the tortuous plug out of his abused ass was too compelling. Despite telling himself he was doing this out of necessity, his whole body flushed with humiliation as he arranged his bound limbs according to the hunter’s earlier directions.

On his knees, he had to curl impossibly tight to get his elbows and forearms adequately on the floor. Derek pressed his sweating brow to stone.

Obviously he hesitated a bit too long. Gerard growled “Present!” again and matched this with another hard smack to his backside. The wound in Derek’s injured thigh had finally fully closed while the hunter was gone, but it still ached fiercely. His weakened legs trembled, straining as he lifted his ass up into the air.

He felt his ass pulled even higher when his captor seized the end of the plug again and gave it a harsh tug, his body following the motion as his asshole refused to relinquish it. He gasped and pressed his forehead harder to the concrete. His whole body rocked as Gerard began to see-saw the plug, working it out.

“When this comes out, you’re going to hold all that shit in you until you’re properly squatting over the drain. You got that, Mutt?”

The plug was beginning to make lewd, filthy, liquid sounds as the muscles around it began to loosen. Derek could feel the hot fluids from his insides squelching out around the plug. Some of it ran down his hairless taint, tickled the back of his bare ball sac. Some fell in pattering drops to the floor between his spread thighs. Derek fought the urge to gag when a bit of it trickled between the crack of his upturned ass and ran down his sloped back. It followed the contour of his spine, between his shoulders, leaving muddy streaks across the lines of his triskele and pooling at the base of his neck.

It was so terribly humiliating, this seepage. And while its expulsion hinted at relief, it was simply...

 _Not enough_ …

Derek felt his insides push, trying to help work the plug out.

Gerard’s expression wavered between fascination and disgust as he watched the filth ooze from the beast’s stretched hole. There was the sound of air as he pulled and the bitch pushed in tandem. Sludge-like shit spat out as its red rim gasped around the plug.

“Don’t you dare get your filth on me when I pull this out.” He thrust it back in with a brutal twist. “Got it? Or I’ll fill you with twice the water and plug you right back up.”

Derek didn’t know how he wasn’t going to explode when the plug finally left, but the promised threat in his captor’s voice terrified him.

He opened his closed eyes, stared at the grain in the concrete beneath him. “Yes, mast-.”

His words were cut off by a pained groan: this was the moment Gerard chose to yank the  plug out with a vicious jerk. The burn was excruciating, and he felt tissue tear and slough as the object left him.

Derek couldn’t recall the last time he felt so empty, not just in body, but in soul. His abused ass fluttered, gaping like a screaming mouth. It took every effort for him to clamp down, to keep his bowels from immediately expelling the burden they’d been too long forced to carry.

“Hold it!” Gerard ordered, his voice ruthless. It was hilarious watching the were trying to maneuver itself up and over to the grate without soiling itself completely. As it was, the beast was clearly losing the battle: at each jerky movement a pulse of watery shit fell from its wide, open asshole.

Scrambling, crying, cursing, Derek finally found himself crouched over the drain. His body burned with humiliation and strain, squatting like a true dog above an open hole. His thighs trembled. He wanted so much to be able to draw his hands up and support his swollen belly, gravity was wreaking hell on him in this position, but his chains wouldn’t allow it.

“Hold it.”

Dropping his head down, a new wave of shame washed over him, realizing his dick was still hard despite the rest of his body’s distress. A shudder shook him and Derek realized he couldn’t hold back another moment.

“Master… please.”

This was a true petition, Gerard heard it and it thrilled him.  He saw the monster had been pushed to the very edge. He growled and came in his pants, completely untouched, just from the pure power of the moment, the true brokenness in the were’s plea.

“If only your pack could see you now, eh, Alpha?” His voice was rough with his release and the lust that still burned bright within him.

He waited just a few more beats, knowing that each of these would seem like an eon to the tormented creature.

“Go ahead, Bitch. Shit yourself.”

Never in his life had Derek been so debased. His soul twisted at the words, in this moment he felt stripped of everything human. It made him want to defy Argent, but he simply couldn’t. New color rushed to his face as the room filled with the sounds of ripping farts and liquid gushing.

His tortured guts uncoiled. Watery shit burned his torn passage as it was flooded. The air grew fetid and foul as everything held within his digestive tract was flushed out of him.

But his humiliation was far from over. Sobbing again without even knowing it, each rasping breath timed with the spasms of his rapidly flattening belly.The relief as he flushed his bowels from the hours of agonizing pain became an excruciating pleasure. It acted as the final trigger after all of the milking Gerard had inflicted upon him and Derek’s cock emptied too. His balls hitched and his twitching dick loosed jets of thick come.  

He remained squatting there, long after he was emptied. His inside’s continuing to cramp, wracked with spasms, balls and bowels both convinced they’d not yet expelled everything. Derek kept his head down, eyes focused on the floor, trying to find someplace within his mind he could retreat to lick his wounds. But every corner he sought, that terrible internal voice was there, condemning, taunting.

Though he found all monster’s disgusting, Gerard couldn’t help but admit, as far as they went, there’d always been something regal about the Hale Alpha. That was part of what had made him lose himself, seeing what others found magnificent reduced, stricken down, beyond humbled.

Seeing the creature climax had been extraordinary and he damned the fact he hadn’t been able to stall his own release just a few moments longer. He would have loved to come together with the were. _Or come over it_. He imagined spurting his seed on the beast’s soiled back while it spent itself.

_Well, there will be other opportunities, no doubt._

Massaging his limp, sensitive cock through the cloth of his slacks, Gerard imagined this.

The hunter took in the bowed head, the broad, beautifully muscled back. His eyes traced the stained tattoo between sculpted shoulders. He knew he’d rouse again before long if they both stayed as they were. His tongue darted out to wet his lips as he stared at the were’s smooth, solid flanks, how the flesh quivered the longer the beast remained squatting.

It’s ass was so tight. Legs held wide by the stretcher bar, he’d been able to watch every liquid squirt of its dirty hole. Even now, it continued to wink at him, tempting, teasing.

_Oh yes, there will be plenty of opportunities._

But Gerard was a man, not some base creature like this. He could wait. Had been waiting so long already.

Releasing himself, he retrieved the hose and began to spray the floor down. The were seemed lost within itself. It didn’t moved when he began to hose down the floor under it, around the grate, barely even twitched when he turned the hose on the beast itself. At least until he directed the stream at its still-twitching pucker. Only then did it move.

It turned its head and vacant green eyes stared at him.

“Get back over there.” Gerard nodded his head to where the chain lay that had initially tethered the bitch’s ankle restraints to the floor.

It seemed, along with its shit and sperm, that all the fight had be emptied from the beast. It said nothing, but merely dropped its dark head and painfully crawled over to where he’d indicated.

Gerard grinned at this. Of course, he didn’t expect such compliance to last, but still, it was a wonderful taste of the unwavering obedience that would eventually come.

No sooner had the were reached it’s spot than Gerard turned off the hose. “Snap the latch on the chain. Leash yourself.”

There it was… That flicker of fight. The hunter felt a dark thrill run through him. Of course the monster wouldn’t be broken that easily.

He crossed his arms waiting. Grinned as trembling fingers at last took up the lock and awkwardly closed the clasp, joining the chains.

“Good dog…”

The beast said nothing, but shivered at this praise. Then it collapsed on its side and curled up into a near-fetal position.

Gerard’s tongue darted out again and he licked his lips once more. The action reminded himself that his bitch must be thirsty. Likely hungry too. But food would come later. He’d just spent all this labor getting the bitch cleaned out after all. Besides, there were advantages to letting his new pet get acquainted with hunger.

After finishing hosing everything down, getting all his equipment put back into it’s proper place, Gerard returned to the cupboards and pulled out a metal dog dish. It was engraved: ‘Sissy’ in ornate letters on one side, ‘Bitch’ on the other.

After filling this from the sink’s tap, he walked over and set it at the perimeter of the were’s reach. When the animal didn’t respond to his master’s kind gesture, Gerard unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock. Green eyes opened immediately at the hiss of hot piss against its skin.

“I brought you some water.” Gerard turned and indicated the bowl with his stream. Amber fluid hit the side of the dish, then he was pissing right into the dish itself. “You should be grateful I’m taking such good care you.”

The look of exhausted disgust on the beast’s face irritated the hunter. “Oh, come on now. I know for a fact dogs like you will happily drink out of a toilet.”

When the were’s face didn’t shift, Gerard shook off his dick and tucked it away. He moved over to the dish and hawked a glob of spit into it, adding to the mix.

“That’s for earlier. You’ll quickly learn I don’t forget, nor do I forgive poor behaviors from my pets. And you’re not getting any new water until you drink this.”

He lifted his gray head and motioned to the room. “And don’t try anything smart like dumping this out. I’ve got micro-cams all over and I _will_ be watching you. A stunt like that will make today’s training session seem like pattycakes.

“Got it?”

When the creature didn’t respond he repeated the question. “Got it, Bitch?”

He stepped forward towards the were and thrilled when it flinched at the movement and whispered,  “Yes, Master.”

Gerard stopped where he was. “Good dog.” He offered this despite the fact he could already see rebellion beginning to spark in the embattled green gaze.

Pretending that everything was settled, the hunter turned and made his exit. He flicked off the light and headed back upstairs, looking forward to a hot shower, his soft bed, and a good sleep.

The bitch would drink the water… _Eventually._

Eventually it would do anything it’s master asked.

It was all just a matter of training and waiting. And, as Gerard had established before, as a man, he could be patient.

Three days later, when he came down for their daily morning training session, the bowl was finally empty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and a special thanks for those of you brave enough to chime in on such a twisted work. You have both my gratitude and my admiration.
> 
> Next chapter you'll get to see a bit of Derek's pack... Yup, they're starting to miss him.
> 
> Too bad.


	6. Just A Kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So a brief intermission from torturing Derek with some pack antics. But don't worry, I'll soon return you to your regularly scheduled programming.

“So, _what_ are we all doing here?” Lydia sat on the couch in Derek’s loft peering across the coffee table at Stiles.

Under her sharp gaze, Stiles shifted in his chair. Evading answering, he turned his eyes to the other end of the sofa, towards Scott, sitting there with Allison on his lap. Both gave him questioning looks as well.

_Not helpful._

“Well, let’s start with what’s missing here…” Stiles dropped off.

“Warmth, comfortable furniture, an interior decorator with a sense of color.” Danny snarked, answering Stiles’ unfinished sentence as he and Isaac walked into the sitting area from the kitchen. Each held several cans of soda.

“Very funny,” Stiles deadpanned taking a can as it was handed to him. “That’s not what I meant.”

He wiggled a bit in his chair again. Popping the tab of his drink, he realized Danny did have a point, however, about the furniture. Werewolves must have asses of steel to find the seats Derek had set up comfortable. This got him thinking about Derek, or more specifically Derek’s ass, his delectable and sculpted-by-the-gods ass, his cue-the-theme-music and completely bitable ass, and the safety of it. Figuratively, at the moment. It was the reason they were having this meeting in the first place.

“Look Stiles, just tell us.” Lydia passed up the can offered to her  with a wave of her hand and a wrinkled nose. “While there’s a lull in all the creature chaos, Allison and I were going to hit a nine o’clock movie. Like normal people without insane side-lives do.” She shifted her gaze to Allison. “That is, if I can pry her off her boyfriend’s lap.”

Allison blushed and slid of Scott’s legs much to his obvious disappointment. Before she looked back over to Stiles, Lydia smirked, pleased with herself. “My point... I don’t have time tonight to  play your twenty guesses game.”

Stiles looked strangely chagrined at this. It was obvious he was now trying to avoid the very topic he’d called them together for.

As if the universe was, for once, on his side, he was saved from answering just a moment longer with a knock on the door, quickly followed by the clicking of the unlocked latch and Liam popping his head inside. Seeing the pack, he let himself in. Eyes sweeping over the crew he stopped on Stiles.

“Where’s Derek?”

“Yes! Yes! Exactly!” Stiles seemed relieved someone else had brought their alpha’s name up. “Have any of you seen him lately?”

Nonplussed by Liam’s and Stiles’ questions, Isaac, ignoring the empty seat close to Stiles, instead plopped down on the floor within proximity of Scott’s feet. After passing Lydia’s rejected soda over to Liam, Danny joined him.

There was a wave of negative head shaking going on and with each one, Stiles’s expression grew more serious.

“Last time I saw him was at our last pack meeting.” Liam sat down on the arm of the sofa beside Scott as well.

Seeing this, Stiles wondered if any of the pack’s betas were even aware of what they were doing, unconsciously locating themselves near the closest alpha. Derek was right, they might think they were acting fine, but it was clear they were still shaken. He sighed recalling his last interaction with their alpha.

The betas weren’t the only ones struggling.

And then he had to go and make it worse.

Stiles pushed this thought aside. “That’s my point.” He waved his empty hand around the loft. “Derek’s not here. Hasn’t been here for three days.”

“How do you know that?” The quiet question came from Isaac.

“I’ve been keeping tabs on this place, alright!”

“Wait, you mean to say you’ve been stalking our alpha?” Liam had offered this as a joke initially, but it quickly became clear that Stiles had in fact been staking out the loft.

“He’s been gone for _three_ days,” Stiles repeated ignoring the others’ curious looks. “Hasn’t been back here at all. Have any of you guys heard from him? Or tried to contact him even? He won’t answer my messages or texts”

“He’s not always the most communicative,” Isaac offered with a helpless shrug. “So, even if I do call or text, unless I say it’s an emergency; I don’t usually expect to hear back from him.”

“And he doesn’t like to be bugged, so I try not to bother him.” Liam added this, his gaze pointed as though Stiles should know better about hounding Derek.

The other betas nodded in agreement.

“I haven’t tried to call him, but I don’t see why you’re freaking out, Stiles. He was clearly upset after our last meeting.”

If it wasn’t for how worried Stiles was, he might have thought it comical the way all three betas heads immediately swiveled towards Scott when he started speaking.

“Stressed.” Scott continued, equally oblivious to the court he now held. “I bet he just went up to the woods to ‘wolf out’ for a few days. Unwind.

“You know he does that.”

Stiles knew this was true and wished he could agree, but his time he just couldn’t. Scott must have read this on his face, because his comforting grin fell quickly away.

“Unless there’s some reason _why_ you’re extra concerned…”

Face too good an audience to his thoughts, Stiles knew he had to come clean the minute Lydia groaned.

“What happened Stiles?” She leaned over and placed her well-manicured hands on the coffee table and gave him a banshee’s glare. “Or more specifically… What. Did. You. Do. Now?”

“I kissed him.”

It was mumbled, barely audible, unless one was hanging out in a group of werewolves. Stiles felt his cheeks immediately burn at all the popped eyes suddenly fixed on him.

“Excuse me… Can you repeat that?” Danny had been about to take a drink of his soda, but he set the can down on the floor. From the look on his face Stiles was glad the beta hadn’t been drinking or they’d have been scrubbing soda out of Derek’s pristine furniture.

Stiles found it difficult to meet Danny’s eyes. “I kissed him…” It was still mumbled but louder this time.

“What the fuck, Stiles?”

“What do you mean? I would have thought you’d be the last person to have a problem with the idea of one guy kissing another!”

Danny shook his head. “Of course I don’t. It’s just… _Derek_? Our alpha? Besides, I mean, I know he’s hot in a broodish, pissed off kind of way. And I know you’re a little gay for me- who wouldn’t be? But I always thought you were totally gay for Scott.”

“What?!” This came in stereo from Scott and Stiles. Both of their faces shared appalled disbelief.

“Me too,” Isaac added his support to Danny’s supposition though he looked far from happy about it.

Liam nodded, silent, scooting himself a little farther away on the arm in case just in case Scott got upset and lashed out. Not that he would, it was just beta reflex.

It was Allison who actually seemed the most offended, however.

“It’s called ‘bromance’ for a reason, guys! Right now, however, this is unimportant.” Allison leveled her gaze at Stiles, who became immediately convinced she had been spending way too much time around Lydia when she suddenly turned interrogator.

“First, when did this happen. Second, why did you kiss him, Stiles? And third…”

Allison’s voice was a little too breathless for Stiles’ comfort, “How’d he react?”

Now his chair was really uncomfortable. After a few seconds of fruitless squirming, Stiles jumped up to pace instead.

“He was really stressed at our last meeting. You guys saw how he was.”

“Left, kind of abruptly, I thought.” Scott’s voice wasn’t unkind, but he still had issues with a lot of Derek’s behaviors and this had clearly been one of those instances.

Stiles rolled his eyes and ignored him. “Do you blame him?” A raised palm immediately followed this question. “Don’t answer that.”

Now that they’d started down this road, Stiles knew he needed to keep the ball rolling or he’d chicken out, and he needed to come clean. He couldn’t carry the weight of his secret any longer, regardless of how their alpha felt about it, or the rest of the pack for that matter.

“Look, after the meeting broke up, I tracked him down. He was up at his old house.” Stiles was only too aware that he had a completely attentive audience for once. “He was upset, I mean these last few months haven’t been easy.”

The sober faces of the rest of the pack attested to the truth of this.

“He wasn’t super happy to see me, to be completely honest.” Stiles frowned when Liam snorted at this. The beta covered the lower half of his face with his hand and dipped his head when Scott shot a disapproving look at him.

“But he’d managed to secure some were-hooch, was a little tipsy.  _Maybe_. Offered me a few beers, which I took.”

“This has disaster written all over it.” Lydia sighed. Allison reached over and gave her thigh a light swat.

“Go on, Stiles,” she encouraged, seeming far too delighted by this confession.

“Not much more to it.”

Only there was.

Stiles could still picture the slivered moon. The way it’s frail light painted Derek’s profile when he found him, not in the old house but just outside it. Seated on the ground, back resting against a fallen log.

“We sat there a while. I rambled. He listened in his usual stoney fashion… or maybe endured is more apt.

“He just looked so defeated. And I…” Stiles blushed furiously. “I care about him, you know. I wanted to let him know he maybe wasn’t as alone as he looked like he felt.”

“So you kissed him?” Danny’s eyes held entirely too much twinkle.

Stiles nodded, suddenly feeling like the world’s biggest fuck up. Liam’s next words didn’t help this sensation at all.

“And at your display of erm… _comfort..._ he freaked out and took off.”

“Uh… Yeah.” Stiles rubbed the back of his neck, hoping his heartbeat didn’t give him away.

Because it wasn’t exactly that simple.

He remembered too clearly how wide Derek’s eyes had become when the were realized what he was going to do. Maybe it was his heart or something in his scent, but Stiles knew Derek had anticipated that kiss.

He could still picture the way the alpha’s tongue had darted out, wetting that full bottom lip of his, mouth slightly parted, just enough the white edges of Derek’s sweet rabbit teeth were visible. How the alpha had leaned in to meet him.

When finally their lips brushed, it wasn’t just a little peck. It was soft and surprisingly smooth. Started slow, lingered, and soon became something deep and hungry. Both of them kissing the other like they’d been starving for it.

The way Derek smelled, the dark excitement, the musk of his need; even now, Stiles swore that scent clung to the inside of his nostrils every time he took a deep breath. And the taste of him, the silk of Derek’s tongue when the were opened up for him with the softest of whimpers…

God, that sound.

It made Stiles half hard just recalling it now. And it had told him how dearly Derek needed to be taken, wanted to submit to someone, give up the burdens he’d been carrying if just for a  moment. It was only when he’d pressed his hand to Derek’s cheek, scratched his nails lightly through the stubble on that chiseled jaw the spell had broken.

Derek hadn’t said anything after that. Not one goddamn thing.

He’d just pulled away gently. Stood. Moments later he’d climbed into his car and the next thing Stiles knew, he was sitting alone, stunned, hard, and blinking, watching the taillights of Derek’s camaro disappear into the dark.

Stiles shook his head dispelling the memory, when what he really wanted was to be shaking Derek instead.

“Alpha’s not the best with emotional stuff.”

“Do you think?”  Normally Stiles tried not to be too sarcastic with Isaac, the way the other boy winced at his tone was an immediate reminder of why. But still… It was such a blatant statement of the obvious.

“Did you tell him you loved him?”

The question came from Lydia, _of course._ Stiles’ attention snapped away from cringing beta to bold banshee in an instant.

“Wha... ? No!”

But that‘s what he felt, wasn’t it? _Love.  Sure, there was lust there too, obviously. Who wouldn’t feel that for someone as beautiful as Derek._ But no, Stiles knew his feeling for the alpha ran deeper than just the longings of his flesh.

Of course, leave it to Lydia to be the one to see it. This was also why he was so worried about Derek: love had hurt the were so deeply in the past he would go to almost any length to avoid it now.

“Well that’s good.” Lydia rose from the couch. “If you had, he’d likely be in New York by now. But just a kiss… Well, he’s probably still skulking around here somewhere. Rolling in embarrassed man-angst.”

Stiles couldn’t help but make a face at the “just a kiss" comment, but his mind quickly left off this in favor of what Lydia had left hanging, unsaid.

_Or something’s happened to him._

Because while things had quieted down at the moment, none of them presently were free from threat. Beacon Hills didn’t offer that kind of peace... Yet.

“Where have you looked?”

“Everywhere… His old house again, here, all his favorite spots in the woods, his hangouts in town. Unless I somehow keep miraculously missing him.”

“All right!” Lydia’s hands went into conductor mode as she wave all of them up.

“Are we going to split up and go look for him?” Liam asked as he rose from the couch.

Lydia rolled her eyes as though petitioning some deity, asking him why it was her plight in life to be surrounded by idiots.

“Yes, we could waste time like that,” She glanced down at her watch. “Or we could just go ask Deaton to cast a locating spell. Then Allison and I might still be able to make a midnight show.”

“Locating spell!” Stiles smacked his forehead while around him the rest of the pack clambered up from their respective spots. For being so smart, he could be so remarkably stupid sometimes.

“As much as I enjoy watching you self-flagellate, you shouldn’t beat yourself up too much, Stiles.” Lydia pressed her hands against his shoulders pushing him towards the door.

She dropped her voice, not that this would keep the weres from hearing, but when she spoke this low, at least Stiles could pretend it was just between the two of them.

“You know he wouldn’t have just taken off like he did if he didn’t feel something too. Right? The others might have been oblivious to the way you two pine for each other, but I wasn’t. It’s about damn time one of you grew some balls.”

Seeing the stunned look on his face she sighed. “And don’t worry, Stiles, he’ll come around eventually.  He always does… Eventually.”

Too floored by the possibility that Derek might actually hold some feeling for him too, that his leaving hadn’t been a disgusted rejection but a fear-based flight, for once, Stiles didn’t have a snappy comeback. Instead, he just let Lydia keep pushing.

“I swear, the pair of you are so equally emotionally constipated. When we do find him, I am going to give you both a dose of emo-lax and make you two really talk to each other. And once you’re cleared out, then you can go fuck each other stupid again.”

“I uhh…”

“Yeah, like I said. Just hold your words for your wolf-man.” Lydia grabbed her jacket from near the door as they followed the rest of the pack out, pausing only long enough for Stiles to stop and make sure the door was locked (twice).

Then they left their alpha’s empty den behind them, secured until Derek returned.

_Hopefully._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading.


	7. Bits And Pieces

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back. 
> 
> That last chapter and this were originally one, but it got way too long. Aren't you lucky? Two chapters in less than 24 hours.
> 
> Too bad this luck doesn't extend to Derek as well.

He  was cleared out…Cleaned out... Empty

Derek’s bowels had never felt so hollow. His insides had been cramping something terrible for hours. For a while he’d thought maybe the pains were from hunger, but somehow that didn’t feel right. Even though he hadn’t eaten since the night he fell into the pit.

Squatting over the drain again, despite the spasms in his guts, nothing came.  His sore asshole clenched and unclenched and finally a spurt of mucusy water dribbled out. There was just nothing else left in him.

Argent had offered him some dog food a while back. Ground shit it a can it looked like, and hadn’t smelled much different. When he’d refused it, unlike the water, the hunter had taken it away and hadn’t offered it again since.

Derek’s stomach rumbled as he tried to figure out when that had been… _Days ago? Weeks?_

It felt like an eternity that he’d been trapped in this hell.

There was no way for him to keep track of time here; his captor’s schedule seemed so arbitrary. The hours he was left trussed and barely able to twitch were as varied in length and frequency as the hours he was ‘trained.’ And the drugs pumped into him at equally random intervals weren’t much help in establishing a time frame either. They just made him unable to shift, weak, foggy, or...

“You done, Bitch?”

Bleary eyes looked up only to meet Argent's smirk. Derek dropped his gaze quickly and offered a soft whine. He knew his shock collar was off at the moment, but it wasn’t as though he could form words very well with the ring gag holding his jaws open. The hunter had forced this new bit into his mouth quite some time ago, and hadn’t taken it out for over two ‘training’ sessions.

Derek's jaw ached so badly at its hinges, just under his ears, and he longed to move it, to flex it.  By now, his throat was parched too, drool and saliva long since a luxury. He would have given anything for something to ease this. Would even happily drink from his replenished bowl of piss-water. After all, he’d drunk from mud puddles more than once as a wolf. And the taste of the soiled water he’d been given lately was probably comparable, he reasoned. Not that he really cared about logic right now, he just wanted to slake his thirst.

Pulled back to the present by his captor’s voice again, Derek tensed when Argent stepped around behind him. A shiver danced up his spine when a cool, latexed hand stroked up his back. It pressed lightly into muscles anguished from being held too long in a single position.

From anyone else this touch might have felt kind. Derek’s skin didn’t seem to differentiate, however. It was soothing after so many spanks, so many shocks, the twist of his innards, the torture of his ass. Another soft sound escaped him as the hand continued to stroke.

“You’re going to keep being a good dog for me today.”

This statement was punctuated by a pinch to his hip. Derek lifted his head and looked back as much as his stiff collar allowed. It was enough for him to be able to see the purpled patches on his flank. Whatever Argent was injecting him with, one of the drugs (and he knew there were several) was clearly hindering his healing. A drop of crimson welled among this other color where he’s just been stabbed with yet another hypodermic.

This shot wasn’t the anti-healing one, however. He’d lost track of how many times he’d been given it, but he recognized the drug instantly. Its effects were nearly immediate and always the same. It started with a warmth in his low belly that soon spread throughout his whole body, leaving his skin heated, his balls heavy. Derek could feel his dick stiffening and knew he would soon be sticky, wet and leaking.

“Like that, do you, Mutt?”

He didn’t. Argent liked to leave him hard and aching for hours. It was misery. Already feeling the effects begin to take hold, Derek shifted as much as his bonds allowed

At first he’d tried to hide the shame of his reactions to the drug, of his body finding pleasure in the deplorable acts the hunter inflicted on him. But successive shocks of the collar had already trained this out of him. The old pervert apparently enjoyed watching him writhe and strain to reach an untouched climax, the betrayal by his flesh to everything that was happening to him. It was just one more form of torture.

_Speaking of torture…_

His eyes warily tracked the hose. Already somewhat stretched, it slithered along the concrete following the hunter; even though the man had to know, just as he did, there was nothing left inside him now. Derek braced himself for the ice, the pain, the nozzle ripping his rim, tearing his insides, the excruciating sense of being filled to bursting.

He jumped when the stream hit him and choked back a startled sob. The flow wasn’t nearly as forceful as usual and the water warm. But this didn’t offer Derek any lasting relief since he began to immediately try and anticipate what this change meant; his mind already becoming conditioned to constant pain and his ‘master’s’ sadistic whims.

_Oh, god. Is Argent going to go the other way now and burn me?_

Notions of hot were too inextricably tied to ‘fire’ in Derek’s mind. And right now he was so worn down he couldn’t fight the memories, any more than he could fight being scalded- if that’s what the hunter wanted to do to him. He hung his head and started to cry, body flushing in new humiliation at his inability to control his emotions.

“What’s this?” Behind him Gerard’s voice mocked. “Here I thought you might like a change of pace. Are you really such a pain slut you can’t handle a little temperance from your master?”

The hunter’s face wore a feral grin. It was exquisite watching the were break down like this.  Even more pleasing, however, was how quickly its body had responded to the potions he’d been plying it with.  The heat, the cramping, becoming weepy. Oh yes, it was clear his little ‘cocktail’ was working and working beautifully. And all the while the creature sitting here, ignorant of how it’s body was being changed inside. The vessel it was becoming.

Turning off the hose, Gerard ran his gloved fingers over the were’s puffy, red rim. It was irritated and swollen, despite the hours it had been given to heal since the animal’s last cleanse. Low slung and hanging heavy below this, the creature’s sac hitched at the feel of his fingers. Keeping one hand playing with his pet’s hole, he reached forward with the other, underneath, and grabbed ahold of nine inches of worthless bitch clit.

A few strokes set the beast groaning. Eyes fixed on the growing puddle of precome on the damp concrete, with the latex barrier between him and the animal’s hide, it took the hunter a bit to realize that its cock wasn’t the only thing leaking.

Dark eyes darted upwards as Gerard’s fingers traced around the reddened hole with greater enthusiasm. He pressed two in, not carefully. Laughed when this drew a noise from the were that sounded remarkably like a bark. Gerard pumped his fingers in and out a few times, not caring whether he grazed the beast’s ‘special spot’ or not.

He hadn’t turned the radio on this visit. So instead of the usual musical accompaniment, his ears were filled with the cadence of the beast’s increasingly heavy pants. These, the jingling of the chains, the wet, sucking sounds of the animal’s asshole, combined to make their own melody.

After finger-fucking the were’s hole for a few minutes, Gerard pulled out. Thrilled with what he saw, he held his hand before his face and scissored the two fingers watching the web of thick slick stretch between them.

His new bitch’s cunt was as clean as a monster’s ass was ever going to get and now that it was self-slicking...

It was perfect.

The timing too: Chris was out of town and so there’d be no ‘family visit’ tonight. Gerard would have the whole evening to play with his pet. He’d had his new were for a week and hadn’t mounted it yet.

Whether it was fertile or not; it was clearly time for the bitch’s first breeding.

The entire time he’d been fingering the beast’s hole, the hunter’s hand had continued playing with it’s cock, stroking. His dog was getting close, Gerard could feel it. So he pulled and milked until muscular thighs began to quiver, then he dropped the were’s dick and stood up.

He ignored its frustrated growl as he walked around the monster admiring all the changes he’d wrought on it already. Despite all its supernatural strengths it was not impervious. Its sleek hairless skin was stretched tighter now over muscle and bone, heightening every well-defined ripple. Tan further faded from lack of light and blood loss, it was going to look so pretty once it was permanently pale. Except, of course, for the reddened patches on its firm, round ass cheeks, lingering from that morning’s earlier paddling.

Yes, Gerard liked a rosy hue on his dog’s hide and was dedicated to keeping this up.

Derek kept his head down although he was conscious of every step the hunter took around his bound body. He was shuddering now, his cock had been so close to blowing, and his thighs almost ready to give out after being held in their squatted position for so long.

Despite his frustration over the ache in his balls, the throb of his cock, Derek couldn’t help but groan in thanks when a large hand pressed between his shoulder blades pushing him out of his squat and on to his knees. Derek’s gratitude was short lived, however, when moments later, this same hand twisted in his hair holding his head in place, while Gerard’s other hand pressed musky, gloved fingers into the desert of his mouth.

Slicked digits stroked his dry tongue and Derek fought not to gag. “How do you like the taste of yourself, Dog?

“I know real hounds can’t seem to get enough of their own asses, the way they’re always licking them. Do you mourn the fact you’re not as flexible as your more evolved brothers? I bet when you’re in your wolf form you can’t keep your mouth off that slutty hole of yours.”

Rubbing against the parched muscle of the were’s tongue, Gerard clucked his own. “So dry. This will hardly be enjoyable. Maybe I should give you a drink. Get this second cunt of yours wet.”

The taste of his own ass sitting thick on his tongue now, it took everything Derek had not to start begging at the thought of getting some water. The hunter must have clearly read his desperation however as Gerard immediately began taunting him.

“Come on little bitch. Tell your master how much you want it. I know you must be all but dying of thirst right now.”

Derek would have ducked his head away from his captor’s hard eyes, but the chains tethering him to the floor and the hand in his hair kept him in place.

_Give the man what he wants. He clearly knows how weak you are. It’s not like he can think less of you than he already does. Besides, you want it too… Not just the water… but to be a ‘good bitch.’ We both know it._

Derek cringed away from the voice in his head as much as the hand in his hair that had just given his scalp a hard twist, pulling his bangs and making his eyes water. Hours in the dark, nothing to focus on but the pain, and this, this voice. A voice that wouldn’t shut up. Telling him over and over how worthless he was, how much pain he’d caused others, how he truly deserved to be treated like this for all the harm that he’d done

Unable to form words, Derek gave in. Anything to get his internal and external tormentors to quiet. The whine built low in his throat, rough and gritty as sandpaper. The sound was pathetic and pleading and immediately set Gerard cackling.

“Good Dog!”

For a moment when the hunter twisted away, Derek thought he was going for the hose. His eyes widened in horror when instead, Gerard used his free hand to undo his fly and pull out his half-hard dick. Confronted with Argent’s eighty year-old penis, he bucked back despite the hand in his hair. Even roused, it was as wrinkled as the rest of the man. His sensitive nose immediately caught the hunter’s hygiene wasn’t the best either.

“Stay!” Gerard barked. Dropping his cock, his hand went to his pocket. The moment he pulled out the remote, the beast instantly stilled. It gratified him to see how effective his training was already, though there were still many more tricks for the were to learn.

Derek froze when he saw the remote, the red light indicating his collar had been turned back on. He could feel the buzz of it against already blistered skin. He shut his eyes tight, tears leaking out the corners. Meanwhile, the hunter pulled his head forward and guided his cock into the “O” of the ring gag. Half-hard, Gerard still filled his mouth, though not enough yet to really choke him. Even so, the taste of it, yeasty, obviously unwashed, immediately had Derek gagging.

“Look at me, Mutt!” Feeling safe with the strength of the bit wedged in the beast’s jaws, Gerard increased the electricity in the collar just slightly. Dark, wet lashes flickered open and the devastation in the verdant gaze that met his own immediately set the hunter’s blood burning.

“Someday, I’ll be able to just put my cock in your filthy mouth without any guards. In fact, you’ll come to me, begging for it. I know a cockslut when I see one.”

There was a flicker of something in the were’s eyes for just a moment but it was there and gone so fast Gerard couldn’t tell if it was fight or fear. And it really didn’t matter at present. He’d had several cups of coffee that morning and his aged bladder had been complaining for a while. Now it was time.

“I’m going to fuck your mouth in a minute here, Bitch. But I’m going to get it wet first. You can thank me for my kindness by not spilling any of my gift. And know if so much as a single drop is lost, you’ll be punished for it later.”

No sooner did Gerard say this then he opened the floodgates.

Mouth suddenly filled with acrid piss, Derek choked. Hot and bitter, it stung his swollen tongue and burned the back of his abused throat. It tasted awful. Involuntarily, his stomach hitched.

“Don’t you dare puke!” Gerard ordered as he groaned around the pleasure of relieving himself. “I’ve no qualms about making you lick your own sick up off of the concrete. Dog’s are known for eating their own vomit after all.”

The very idea only made Derek feel sicker. His already anguished guts twisted more, as the acidic flow found its way into his stomach. Derek closed his eyes again and tried to open his throat. For an old man, Gerard’s stream was remarkably strong. Piss filled his mouth and even swallowing as fast as he could, Derek felt it run down the sides of his mouth, trickle through the stubble under his chin. Just when he thought he might truly drown from the torrent, the stream finally died down and dribbled to a stop. Gerard didn’t withdraw, however. He just stood there and gave a satisfied sigh.

“Nothing like a good piss to make a man feel glad he’s alive.” The hand not still holding Derek’s head encircled the base of the hunter’s cock. Gerard began to slowly stroke himself in small motions. “Unless, of course, it’s a good fuck.”

Derek panicked feeling the man begin to grow in his mouth. Gerard’s cock was maybe just an inch shorter than his own. Long and thinnish, the swelling member was soon pressing against the back of his throat.

“You enjoying this, slut puppy?" Gerard peered under the kneeling were, pleased that its erection hadn’t flagged yet. Its dick, tight and dark, furious looking. His words found their mark and he watched the tops of the creature’s ears turn bright red. While it might suspect the drug, he knew the beast didn’t trust that this was the only thing truly keeping it hard and the self-doubt was a beautiful thing to behold.

Attention having been drawn to the animal’s ears, the hunter let go of the dark mane tangled between his fingers. Each hand grabbed an ear and now that he was fully erect, Gerard used these as handles, holding the head between them in place as he began to rape the were’s mouth.

“Looks like that drink did it’s job,” he muttered as he thrust. The wet, choking sounds of the creature’s gagged mouth on his cock filled the room and echoed off the walls. Setting a brisk pace, he fucked his new pet hard. Heat rushed around his dick when the were gagged enough for some of the piss it had swallowed to come back up.

Gerard watched the strong throat, red and blistered from the shocks, struggle. He was entranced by the way the monster’s Adam’s apple bobbed as it tried to swallow this back down.

“I bet after having your thirst quenched you’re ready for a meal now, eh?” The percussion of the hunter’s hips ramped up, the beat slightly off kilter now as he neared his climax. “Aren’t you lucky your master’s willing to feed you too?

“And you better swallow all of it.”

Derek’s cheeks were wet with tears, his tonsils battered, his throat bruised. His scalp still stung from where his hair had been pulled, and his ears felt like they might be torn off at any moment. Hands chained down, he splayed his fingers, bracing them on the damp concrete to keep from losing his balance as his mouth was pounded.

A stutter of hips let him know Argent was coming just moments before his mouth was filled with come. Whatever the man had been eating, he needed to take a serious look at his diet, because it wasn’t just bitter, it was rancid. Derek felt bile rise to his throat again, but fought to keep it down. He sucked the hunter’s spend along with it, trying to swallow it as fast as he could to get the taste out of his mouth

He was so focused on this it took him a few moments to realize Argent had stilled. When the man released him, Derek fell forward. Gasping he pressed his forehead against the cool concrete. Never had he been so happy to breathe freely. As he lay there, he could hear his captor tuck himself away. He grieved the fact his rapist’s heart sounded so remarkably strong, even pounding hard as it was from his recent exertion. Then the man began with his usual tidying.

Derek kept his eyes closed. The last thing he wanted to see at the moment, regardless of the risk he was taking by not watching, was to look at Gerard Argent.

His sharp ears followed the hunter as he moved around the room. Then he heard the familiar sound of wood being drug across the concrete. A moment later, hands were unlatching chains. Remaining hidden behind his closed lids, Derek flexed his bound limbs. In an instant they filled with terrible pins and needles after being restricted for so long.

“Alright, Bitch. Up. You know the drill.”

When he didn’t respond immediately a sharp smack to his bruised hip got him going.

Lifting his head slowly, Derek located the padded bench Argent had dragged out into the space from the edge of the room. He’d been intermittently strapped onto it, off and on, numerous times now. Sometimes for training, sometimes just to be left. Struggling to move, mind and limbs numb, he made no protest this time. He simply crawled over.

Cock still unbearably hard, bobbing between sweat-slicked thighs, Derek was aware of every brush of his naked ball sac, swinging with his every movement. His ass was wet, still dripping, he thought, from the lingering fluids of his last enema. At the bench he barely hesitated. Feeling broken and so fucking tired, he simply drug himself up and settled atop it. A soft whimper escaped him as his chest grazed the padded leather. His nipples had become so sensitive recently.

Derek allowed his head to drop over the edge, too burdened to hold the weight of it up. In fact, he let the structure support his whole body. And he had to admit, compared to the frigid, damp concrete that had been his bed for days, its cushioning actually felt remarkably good.

He kept his limbs limp and pliable, not protesting when Argent picked them up and moved them into position. Arms set upon thick rests and strapped down. Another strap across his shoulders, another at his hips. Strong hands gripped a thigh and Derek found his mind pretending the hunter was massaging it, not merely bending it to get it into place before it too was tied down, leg bent and bound at mid-thigh, just below his knee, and above his ankle.

“I’m happy to see I’ve finally driven some sense into that thick were skull of yours.”

That his captor sounded almost pleased made Derek shiver. The man rubbed a hand over the faded red of an ass cheek. Derek tensed, awaiting a blow that didn’t come. Instead Argent merely stepped around to bind his other leg.

Once he had his monster secured, Gerard took a moment to admire his accomplishment. He’d had the bench custom made. At present, although fully supported, the were looked like it was crouched down on all fours. Elbows bent, ass slightly raised. The belly part of the bench stopped just about the middle of the creature’s pelvic cradle. Between the animal’s spread thighs, below it’s angry looking asshole, its balls and still hard, dripping dick dangled, completely vulnerable.

Gerard’s eyes didn’t miss how wet the were’s ass looked either. Watching, he noted its pucker lightly pulsed, each minute contraction pushing a small amount of clear fluid from its ripening passage. The slick dribbled down the beast’s taint. Soon it would be dripping off it’s balls onto the floor below.

_So messy._

Stepping up between the spread thighs, he pushed two fingers in without warning. The beast gave a soft grunt, but that was all. At least until he began thrusting. An evil smile split the hunter’s face when his pet began to quietly whine. His grin grew wider when it became clear, bound as it was, the slut was trying to press its pinned hips back, take his finger deeper.

Derek had no idea what was happening to him, but the second Argent pushed inside him it was like someone had literally set his ass on fire. His insides felt molten. And when his captor brushed over that spot…

His dick jerked but he didn’t come. Still, he was so close. _So close_.

Panting open-mouthed around the gag, Derek knew if he could just get Argent to stroke him there a couple more times, he’d blow. Despite the trauma of what had transpired mere minutes before, despite all the aches and pains in his body, suddenly there was nothing else: his entire being occupied only with the need for release. He wanted to growl, but it came out instead as a whine of frustration when his caged hips couldn’t meet the thrust of the fingers inside him. Caught in his body’s wildfire, pulse pounding in his ears, Derek almost missed it when Argent asked him.

“What? Does my bitch want to come? Do you think you earned it, Mutt?”

What killed Derek more than Argent’s question was how much he desired the answer to be "yes." Mouth held open as it was, he had no way to bite back the new whines that bubbled up from his sore throat, begging.

“I’ll tell you what.” Gerard’s tone was conciliatory. “I’m going to let you come. In my hand. On the condition that you clean it up after.” Suddenly his words had a much harder edge to them. “You’ll be the best bitch for me. No funny business. And absolutely _NO_ biting!”

As much as the idea of consuming himself disgusted Derek, it was no worse than what he’d just taken in. And never in his life had he ached to come as much as he did in this moment. All those blue balls with Kate's teasing. The nights he’d endured, held off from touching himself, while Stiles lingered in the corridors of his mind. These were nothing compared with the need that seized him now.

Almost against his will, Derek felt his head lift. He nodded. There was the snap of latex as the hunter stripped one of his hands. Derek’s skin quivered like a fly-worried horse’s when cool bare skin wrapped around his own hot flesh. His earlier whining replaced with a quiet whimper of defeat.

Gerard laughed at the pitiful sound, but he was really so terribly pleased. Even more at the panted keening that started the moment he began pumping his fingers deeply in and out of the were’s throbbing hole.

“You should drive a harder bargain,” he chuckled, when after less than a dozen strokes and only three over the beast’s engorged prostate, the cock in his hand jerked hard. His closed fist around the end of its dick was quickly filled to overflowing.

It didn’t matter how fast he’d just come, the orgasm Derek experienced shattered him. His world had suddenly gone white, every nerve-ending stripped. He dropped his head down again, gasping as his whole body tremored while wave after wave of aftershock rolled over him. Eyes closed, he floated, free from pain for the first time since he’d fallen into the pit. Then his nose caught the smell of his own seed.

Green eyes slitted open to see a wrinkled cupped hand full of milky spunk.

“Remember our deal.” Gerard reminded as his gloved hand slipped into dark hair, unbuckling the gag. There was a decided clink as the metal knocked against the dog’s teeth as he removed it.

Derek didn’t raise his head but kept his eyes on the floor as he nodded. He flexed his jaw and groaned at how stiff it was. To be honest, given this, he likely couldn’t have bitten Argent if he wanted to right now. At least not hard enough to break skin. Pulling in a deep shaky breath, he extended his tongue. At first he merely pressed it to the pooled fluid. It was salty, but tasted nowhere near as disgusting as the old man’s had. He began to lap it up. Beneath his stubble, his face burned with shame.

While this had only happened twice in his past, Derek's human side was so devastated right now on every level, even without physically shifting, his chemically repressed wolf slunk to the surface to preserve them both. The wolf knew immediately this hand held to their lips, belonged to the moment’s alpha. And submissive grooming was natural. More than this, it was right.

Gerard was stunned when the trussed body below him suddenly, unexpectedly relaxed. He watched entranced as the were licked up its own spend, not just carefully but thoroughly. Continued to lap, in fact, long after his fingers were clean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading.


	8. Chasing the Tracks

When Derek returned to himself, he was disgusted to find his wolf had shifted from licking his own seed from Argent’s hand and was in the act of slurping off thick globs of canned dog food, instead.

Even more appalling, however, was that he didn’t stop.

Foul as the dog food smelled and tasted, after everything else he’d ingested, what his wolf had already consumed seemed to have settled his stomach. The empty ache of it had eased and the vise-like cramps in his guts had loosened. More than this though, a roaring hunger had wakened in him and he could feel his starving cells pulling energy from the mealy meat immediately, directing it towards restoring him.

Muscles strained from all those hours in the gag the canned food was soft enough too that it didn’t tax his still-aching jaws. So rather than literally bite the hand that was feeding him, body flushed with shame, Derek refrained and quickly licked up everything offered him, even if he had to fight gagging with each swallow.

When his wolf retreated and he came back, if Argent noted a shift, the hunter didn’t acknowledge it. The old man merely hummed his approval as he scooped out the last of the slop from the can into Derek’s waiting mouth.

His unprotesting consumption apparently pleased his captor since, once all the food was gone, Argent filled his dish with water and offered it. Didn’t even bother to piss in it. Holding it in place while Derek greedily lapped it up.

When Derek realized how grateful he felt for this small mercy, his stomach clenched in protest far more than it had at the dogfood. While he was still locked in self-recrimination, with a rough ruff of his head, Argent pulled the bowl away and left.

As he walked off he called back over his shoulder. “You’ve made good progress in a week, Hale. None of my other bitches responded so quickly.”

It was the first time since the pit Argent had used his name, and the words that preceded this rocked Derek harder than any blow the hunter had dealt him yet.

 _A week?_ The man had to be lying. It seemed like so much longer. But if it was true, _seven short days…_ The things he’d just done, how far he’d fallen already.

Suddenly Derek didn’t care if the shock collar was on or not. “Fuck you, you sick bastard! I’m nobody’s bitch!”

Argent turned the collar back on at the word “bitch.” While Derek convulsed against his bindings the hunter laughed his way up the stairs.

“You keep telling yourself that, Mutt!” he called out at the top landing, before hitting the lightswitch and stepping out into his home.

Lights off, Derek was cast into darkness again. When his muscles stopped twitching and he could think again, his mind ran frantic circles. He kept coming back to the seven days and Argent’s repeated articulation he wasn’t the first were he’d done this too.

If his body didn’t hurt so much from the shock, he might have spent more energy wondering, yet again, what had happened to the others. Exhausted from the trauma of this most recent training, however, and relatively supported by the padded bench, despite his best efforts to stay conscious, he fell into a fitful slumber.

* * *

 

Blinking into the darkness, Derek lifted his head. Rousing now, he realized he must have been out for several hours. Or so it seemed, if the stiffness of his limbs was anything to go by. Strained neck muscles immediately voiced their displeasure.

Wincing as the shock collar’s tiny spikes pinched newly-healed skin, Derek fervently wished he would fall back asleep. It was about the only escape afforded him at the moment. He could tell by how his mind buzzed already though that sleep would not find him easily now.

Awareness of all his aches became more acute with every passing minute. He growled low in his throat, when what he really wanted to do was whimper. Even with all his supernatural strength the constant pain was wearing him down. More than the pain, he hated this: the helplessness, the dark.

But it was the aloneness and the waiting that were the worst. Sometimes he found himself almost praying for Argent to come back, despite knowing what the hunter was likely to do to him. Fighting a rising sense of panic at how long he’d be left this time, Derek willed himself to be  strong. He turned his mind to strategies for freedom he’d already run through countless times.

Unfortunately, so far, the best he’d come up with was to play along. If he did, long enough, Argent was bound to get complacent sooner or later and fuck up. This was his hope anyways.

_Didn’t follow that strategy so well, did you? Idiot! Yelling at him like that, and just after he thought you were behaving._

As much as he hated to admit it, the voice was right. He needed to be more careful, not let the man goad him, but it was hard after everything he’d been through. Derek swallowed hard only to realize despite the earlier drink and the dog slop, he could still taste both the old man’s and his own spunk heavy on his tongue.

 _Don’t think about that,_ he warned himself. _Don’t think about what’s happened, what’s been done to you, what you’ve allowed to be done. You can deal with all this later, once you’re out of here._

Then the other voice chimed in again; he’d come to despise it almost as much as Argent.

_And don’t think about how all this could have been avoided if you’d acted like an alpha to start with. If you’d taken Stiles like you wanted to when he kissed you, whether he was serious about it or not._

With these words, Stiles popped into Derek’s mind, and not for the first time since he’d been captured. These periods between Argent’s torture gave his imagination a lot of room to run and Stiles had always been one of its favorite mental tracks. Of course, once it started going, try as he might, Derek could rarely think of anything else.

Immediately he was conscious of how rank his mouth was now compared with how sweet Stiles had tasted when they’d kissed. How much he’d wanted Stiles in that moment; to be on the younger man, inside him.

He’d been wanting to fuck the kid since the first moment they met.

_Oh, come off it. Fuck him? More like you would have been Stilinski’s bitch in an instant, rolled over and showed him your belly. Offered him your throat, your ass._

_Some alpha you are._

Derek’s chest ached at these words and his stomach twisted. But it was true and he couldn’t deny it. An alpha’s job was to rule, to dominate, but in that moment with Stiles, while at first he could only imagine throwing the kid belly down over that fallen tree and plowing into him, once their lips met he’d wanted nothing more than to set his heavy alpha mantle aside and simply give himself over.

The feeling had scared him. The thought of losing control either way was one of the reasons he’d run.

But the reality of that kiss… It had been so different than all the fantasies he’d built up over the years. How many times had he dreamt of the feel of Stiles lean frame pressed below him? Those mole-dotted shoulders caught against his broad chest.

Fuck all those times Danny droned on about how, if Stiles was bi, which Mahealani’s was convinced of, it was Scott that he wanted. Not to mention, until he’d turned alpha, McCall was always on the bottom of Danny’s lurid speculations.

That hadn’t stopped Derek’s desire. Made him tighten the reigns on it, maybe.

Still, more than once he’d been driven onto the Stillinski roof to watch Stiles in his room at night. He’d jerked off watching Stiles pleasure himself, and sometimes it had been all he could do not to tear through the window. Throw that ADD brat down on the bed and give him a pounding guaranteed to settle him far more than any Adderall.

_But now…_

It was like letting that little piece of himself flicker to life the night they’d kissed had loosed something within him. Try as he might and despite everything Argent was doing to him, recently his thoughts had turned more and more sexual. Stiles still figured largely in these, but when he envisioned them fucking, it was Stiles’ hard cock in his ass. The younger man draped over him. Hot breath in his ear while Stiles, with that wicked, ever-working mouth of his, vacillated between sweet praises and equally sweet degradations.

How many pack meetings had he sat across from Stiles, wanting nothing more than to shut the kid up with his cock? Now he couldn’t help but envision that same mouth scraping along the stubble of his neck; Stiles still mostly peach-fuzzed jaw rubbing against his.

Or his own mouth, stretched wide around Stiles’ dick. Not too clean, tangy with sweat and the barest trace of piss. Nose buried into musky, dark pubes, damp with his spit. Stiles’ bony fingers twisted in his hair, hips pulsing at a bruising pace, cock bumping the back of his throat while he fought to be still and take it. Make Stiles moan in pleasure, make him happy.

Derek moaned lightly himself, face growing hot at the realization this brief line of thought had quickly filled his cock, and he was hard and throbbing already.

_Look at you, horny little slut. Face it, Hale, you were born to be on your knees. You’re just unlucky enough that it’s always been Argents who’ve seen you for you what you are. Recognized you were never meant to be anything more than an eager little fuckpet._

“Shut up!” Derek snarled, shaking his head. He could tell that a fair amount of strength had returned to him with the ‘food’ and the rest. Bucking against straps he tried to break free once more from both the bonds and the voice. But tied as he was, there was no leverage. After a few minutes he realized he was wasting precious energy. It was a futile endeavor on both counts.

Breathing hard, Derek forced himself to still. He could feel his stiff dick bumped up against the padded edge of the bench. His dangling balls felt so full and the pull of gravity made them ache.

He huffed out a sound of disgust when a wet trickle tickled down his taint: his ass leaking again from Argent’s endless rounds of enemas. Derek figured his struggles must have triggered it. His brow furrowed, however, as it continued to drip, and he realized what was oozing out of his unplugged hole wasn’t thin and watery, but thick and viscous.

God he hoped he wasn’t leaking shit already from the dogfood he’d eaten. Argent would whip his ass for that.

_Like I said… Look at you. Wanting to be a good bitch for your master already._

Despite how the voice made him cringe, the thought of Argent coming down and finding he’d shit himself was worse. His captor had quickly shown a penchant for spanking, hard, fast, and frequent and often until he had Derek sobbing from the pain.

But that wasn’t the worst of it.

The hunter had taken to stroking him off in between rounds of smacks. Derek’s cheeks grew hotter when his dick spat a little bit of fluid at the memory of these torments. Argent edging him for what felt like hours, until, ass on fire, it was not the hand on his cock, but the one spanking or rubbing his cheeks that finally tipped him over.

_And like the man said, he’s only had you for a week, you little painwhore. Imagine what you’ll be like in a month. Forget your little Stillinski crush. Soon you’ll be ruined completely for anyone. Ever._

* * *

 

Gerard leaned back in his chair as he sat at his kitchen table. He had a tumbler with two fingers of scotch in one hand and his phone in the other.

While all, in his well-informed opinion, monsters were repulsive, he couldn’t deny his current captive had a certain aesthetic appeal. To be honest, the animal would have been a perfect male specimen if he wasn’t exactly that - an animal.  That jaw, those chiseled abs, that round hard ass. The steely glare of its large green eyes. Even its impressive useless bitch clit and equally useless tight, heavy sac had somehow managed to captivate him.

He’d been spending far more time observing the beast on the live feeds than he’d intended, so Gerard hoped that after tonight, whatever spell the creature had been casting over him would be broken. He shifted in his seat, dick lifting in immediate interest as he thought about what all the hours ahead held for him and his new bitch.

He chuckled to himself at how the were had reacted to his last words. If only it knew… Though there were benefits to leaving it in the dark at the moment, both literally and figuratively.

Eyes refocused on his phone, the hunter finger-swiped to another camera, switching perspective. The nanny cam positioned to the rear of the monster was perfectly placed.

It pleased him immensely to see the effects of the injections he’d been giving it. How he wished he could only peer into the were’s simple mind and watch there too, as his prepared elixirs twisted its thoughts up, molded it into the perfect vehicle for his plans.

He spent a few minutes watching the beast grow hard, its clit positioned just right for the camera as it filled to its full marvelous length. But he was even more fascinated with the way it’s virgin pucker winked at him. How even in the dark, the night-vision picked up the glistening slick leaking out of that smooth virgin ass. How it seemed to be beckoning his aching cock - an unlocked door with its own wet welcome mat, inviting its new master entrance.

Raising his glass in silent salute, Gerard toasted the wonder of potions. He took a deep gulp of the scotch. Enjoying the burn of the liquor, he tried to imagine how hot his bitch would be inside. His cock was fully awake now at the thought of that tight heat gripping it, the bitch’s body unconsciously working to extract his seed.

_Not yet… Soon._

With an impatient sigh his gaze fell on a second glass, this one sitting empty atop the table.  He checked the time on his phone. Another half hour until the full effects of the potion he’d ingested himself would be in full swing.  Another half hour before the festivities would begin.

“Magic viagra,” He hummed to himself, setting his scotch down to open his trousers. There was a spell or a potion for everything, it seemed. And while the Hale were had aroused him plenty already, Gerard didn’t want to squander such a momentous event: being the first cock in that lush ass.

No… that was something that needed to be savored… extensively… repeatedly.

* * *

 

“Are you sure? I mean... _Really_? There’s still nothing?”

Deaton sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Sometimes there’s only so much magic can do, Stiles.” He motioned to the light orb spinning above his desk just as it had been for the last four days, ever since the night the pack had asked him to try and find Derek. “You can see yourself; it can’t track him.”

Stiles stared at the small dot of light as though he could will it to a different outcome.

“I would tell you, as I have before, you should take heart that it’s spinning. If it stopped we’d know Derek had been... Well, that he was no longer with us. At least this way you know he’s still alive.”

Snorting as though this were hardly consolation, Stiles frustration was clear. “Yeah, but you said too that whoever had him cloaked, that was strong magic… Someone more than a little proficient. Who the hell knows who would have that kind of experience, why they took him, and what they’re doing to him while they have him?”

“Stiles…” Allison put her hand on his shoulder. “Deaton’s trying to help. You’re still researching counter spells too, right? And we still have Danny trying to track his phone and scouring the web. Besides,” she added, “We don’t necessarily know whoever has him is hurting him.”

Pulling his shoulder out from under Allison’s hand Stiles huffed. “Since when has anyone who’s ever taken Derek been nice to him? No, wait.. I’m sure you’re right. They’re probably out getting ice cream right now and Derek’s kidnapper is asking him what flavor sprinkles he wants on his cone.”

Allison ignored the snipe. Stiles had been on edge from the moment it became clear their attempt with the locator spell proved fruitless. Everyone in the pack quickly becoming aware that, now he’d finally voiced it, his feelings for the alpha went far beyond a simple kiss. She wondered whether or not it was possible, like Lydia had said, that Derek felt the same way. And if he did, why he’d run.

“We’ll find him Stiles. And even if they are hurting him… Well, Derek’s a wolf. A strong one.” This was supposed to be reassuring, but the moment she said it, she could tell it only made Stiles more upset.

 _He shouldn’t have to be strong…_ Stiles bit the words back. He’d just wanted so much for Derek to catch a break for once. For them to share it, whatever little moment of peace they could find. After all the shit Derek… Well, both of them had been through, they deserved it.

“Look,” Allison’s tone was conciliatory. “Scott said he’s going to be working late here. Why don’t you come with me to visit my grandfather. Maybe he’ll be able to tell us something. Even though he’s retired now, he still keeps in touch with the hunter community.”

Deaton wisely chose this moment to step out of his office anticipating Stiles reaction. He wasn’t wrong to do so.

“What? Why the hell are you spending time with that psycho, Allison?!” Stile eyes were huge with disbelief, his cheeks flushed with anger. “After everything he’s done?!”

“He’s still family, Stiles!” Allison snapped back. Then her voice dropped, “And normally I don’t. But he’s had a hard time recovering from his cancer treatments. He’s pretty frail right now. Usually my dad goes over every night since Grandfather’s refused to live with us. But he’s out of town for a few days on business and I promised I’d check in on him.

Stiles could hardly imagine Gerard as “frail.” In his experience the guy had been mean as a junkyard dog and ridiculously indestructible.

“Please, Stiles.” Allison batted her eyes at him theatrically, then her face became earnest. “I really don’t want to go there alone. I know I promised my dad, but seeing my grandfather… Well, he creeps me out sometimes too.”

“Sometimes?!” Stiles knew he needed to start keeping a running tally of this evening’s snorts. But he also had to admit seeing Gerard Argent weak, petty as it was, had a certain appeal. Besides, he desperately needed a distraction.

“Fine… I’ll go with you.” Stiles rolled his eyes at Allison’s beaming expression. “But you’re delusional if you think for a second Gerard’s gonna offer to help us in any way.”

Allison was already heading for the door to let Scott and the boys know where she and Stiles were headed off to. She shot Stiles a look back over her shoulder.

“Oh, I don’t know about that, Stiles. Even though he still creeps me out sometimes, Grandfather’s mellowed a lot these days. Dad says he’s picked up some new hobbies recently and he thinks it’s a huge contribution to how well Grandfather’s health has been picking up.  Dad thinks he’s coming to terms too with some of the things he did. Even feels guilty about them now, and maybe, actually, wants to start making amends.”

* * *

 

After stroking himself off to the were, watching it squirm on the nanny cams and the slicking of its ass increase, Gerard couldn’t wait any longer to deflower his new bitch.

Flicking the light on at the top of the stairs, though wasn’t able to see through his spell,  he could imagine it below, writhing within its bonds, hips flexing trying to find purchase, something to rub its enflamed bitch clit against. When he crossed through the cloak and clicked the second light on, he saw his speculations were correct, but now this lovely sight was also accompanied by the delicious sounds of pants and soft groans, the creature caught up in the building levels of the potion in its system.

As soon as the were saw him, Gerard was met with a hard green-eyed stare. Even more arresting than usual, the beast’s pupils remained dilated despite the recent change in brightness.

“What’s happening to me?” The words were rough with labored breaths. “I can’t… What have you done...?”

“Hush bitch.” Gerard pulled the remote from his pocket and flicked it on. As much as he wanted to share his plans, what was about to happen; he wanted to draw this out even more, knowing a slower reveal would have greater effect and go far further in breaking the beast down.

“Dogs don’t ask questions.”

He kept his voice mild. Stepping over to the small counter between his cabinets Gerard was acutely aware of how he was followed by the were’s fevered gaze. The way those over-large pupils fixed on the tented crotch of his slacks, tracking it.

“I’ll give you the chance to use your voice later, though I doubt you’ll be using it to make inquiries.”

There it was… that glorious flash of fury and fear that Gerard had so come to relish in the brief time they’d had together.

“For now though…” The hunter fiddled with the radio, turning it on and scanning the stations. “What’s say I set the mood for us.” He cocked a haughty eye at the were. “Hmmm… What to choose, what to choose…

“I want to make a good selection, because after tonight, every time I hear it, I’m going to have the wonderful memory attached to it of shoving my cock into that virgin cunt of yours for the first time.”

It set fire to Gerard’s blood seeing the wide-eyed horror on the were’s face. A garbled shout, was quickly cut off by the shock collar. When the beast stopped seizing, the hunter laughed. “Right you are! What was I thinking? This is going to take way longer than a single song.”

Flipping off the radio, he pulled his phone and a slim dock out of various pockets. “You know, I have a twelve hour playlist on this thing?” He set about getting his phone rigged up.

The first track filled the basement cell. From his seemingly bottomless pockets, Gerard pulled out a capped hypodermic. Flashing this and a lecherous grin at the were, he started towards his prize.

“The wonders of technology… Am I right?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have I told you that I am a terrible tease? Yup. I am.
> 
> But next chapter... Really... It will be all hard action and Gerard will get into that ass at last.
> 
> Thanks for reading! Kudos are love, but a special hats off to all you wonderful kink-proud commenters!


	9. A Little Night Music

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First things first: WARNING! THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF RAPE.  
> I know that this fic has been brutal from the start, but this is the strongest (and longest) chapter yet. There's no sugarcoating here and the word "rape" is used several times. This is your chance to bail on this fic. If you have any sense you might be triggered by this chapter, please, DO NOT READ IT.
> 
> Now, this is where I attempt to be inappropriately humorous/lighthearted... 
> 
> I thought I'd have more time to write this summer, but that hasn't turned out to be the case so far. Anyways, here's an new chapter for you. Since I have so many firsts going with this thing, I thought I'd do something a little different. Yep... so this chapter is actually a bit of a song fic too. Normally, that's so not my bag, but it seemed to fit here. I don't know what it says about me that this musical inclusion made me more uncomfortable to write than what's actually happening to Derek in this chapter. 
> 
> Anyways, hope you enjoy.
> 
> P.S. No copyright infringement is intended for any of the lyric excerpts contained in this chapter.

* * *

When Argent finally showed up again, Derek was close to frantic. With every passing minute his skin seemed to burn hotter and his cock had been hard and weeping for ages. Not to mention the rhythmic drip on the concrete of whatever it was that continued to slowly leak out of his ass. The ache in his guts had resumed too. He wondered if the hunter had put something in the dogfood he’d eaten. Maybe Argent had tired of tormenting him at last and had dosed him with some kind of slow-working poison. A new wave of pain twisted his insides; Derek groaned. Sweat-slicked skin slipped against the leather as he fought the pain.

Yes, something was definitely not right. He’d been off for a while now, but whatever was going on was getting worse.

With Argent’s return, the dim light came on overhead. It seemed entirely too bright and Derek squinted against it, his expression caught between a grimace and a glare.

“What’s happening to me?” His voice was low and graveled; the word’s panted out between his stomach’s cramping. “I can’t… What have you done...?”

He watched Argent move over to the cabineted area. Whatever was wrong with him, the hunter didn’t seem at all concerned. Before he could press further, Derek saw the dreaded remote pulled from a pocket. With a flick of Argent’s thumb the red activation light light began blinking at him. The collar’s tiny spikes buzzed warningly against his throat.

“Hush, _Bitch_. Dogs don’t ask questions.”

Argent’s voice wasn’t angry, but it was far rougher than usual, his heartbeat elevated. The scent of arousal caught Derek’s nostrils then making them flare. Immediately his eyes fell on the front of his captor’s pants, cock straining against the fabric, a small stain visible where the cloth had been wet through. Derek winced as his asshole suddenly spasmed. He hadn’t been plugged for hours but his insides ached like he had been and his ass seized with a sense of ‘empty’ he’d become alarmingly familiar with.

Meanwhile, the hunter continued to ignore him, messing around with his damn radio. Derek  involuntarily shivered; he’d quickly learned that whenever Argent turned on the music, bad things followed. His fear was confirmed when he was addressed at last.

“I’ll give you the chance to use your voice later, though I doubt you’ll be using it to make inquiries.”

Rage and terror bloomed simultaneously within Derek’s chest. He found himself half-wishing that Argent _had_ poisoned him. There’d be an end then at least, rather than the continuance of this torturous breaking down.

The hunter shot him a wicked grin. “For now though… What’s say I set the mood for us. Hmmm…” He flipped through the stations. “What to choose, what to choose…”

There was nothing Derek wanted more than to wipe off Argent’s haughty smirk. However, the man’s next words caught him completely off guard. It took him a moment to fully process them and when he did, he blanched.

“I want to make a good selection, because after tonight, every time I hear it, I’m going to relive the wonderful memory of shoving my cock into that tight ass of yours for the first time.”

The blood fled Derek’s face and his heart immediately beat triple time. Without thinking protest bubbled up in his throat but he’d barely managed to make a sound when the collar caught him. Eyes rolling back in his head, jaw snapping shut, he was caught in the current. Bucking against the restraints, leather bindings cut into his skin as his muscles contracted. When his body finally ceased twitching, the first thing he registered was Argent laughing. It was an evil sound.

“Right you are! What was I thinking? This is going to take way longer than a single song.”

These words filled Derek’s bowels with ice. Unable to tear his gaze away from his tormentor, he watched the hunter pull out a cellphone and a slim port. At the sight of the phone, tears welled in his eyes. One call or text… less than a minute on it, and people would be on their way for him. The hunter caught him staring and waggled the cell, taunting. Seeing the potential instrument for his deliverance and knowing it was completely, impossibly, out of his reach, devastated Derek, but no more than his captor’s next words.

“You know, I have a twelve hour playlist on this thing?” Argent offered this conversationally, as though he hadn’t told him just moments before he was going to rape him.

Derek dropped his eyes unable to continue to meet the lust-filled gaze.

 _You knew this was coming._ _And you’ve already been... raped. He’s fucked you over a dozen times and you’ve lived through it so far._

It was true, from the start of his time here in this dungeon Argent had made repeated comments about his “hole,” his “bitch cunt.” And he’d already stuck all kinds of things in his ass. He had been fucked with the man’s fingers, the nozzle of the hose, various plugs. And it had only been hours ago the hunter had his cock in his mouth. Each of these violations had left him feeling filthy, disgraced, even broken and in the back of his mind Derek had known these were just ‘warm ups.’ But he realized now some part of him had been holding on to the notion, given how the hunter felt about ‘monsters,’ that Argent would never actually lower himself enough to consider really, physically fucking him.

Understanding now how wrong he’d been, Derek thought he might get sick.

Even with everything he’d already endured, the idea of Gerard’s actual cock going inside of him in _that way_ was immeasurably more abhorrent. Despite the many hours in the dark he’d spent mentally preparing himself for something like this, it was terrible to know that he’d failed: nothing would ever make him ready for this kind of violation.

A new wave of nausea engulfed him, when, in spite of his revulsion, his eager cock drooled even more fluid. His tender pucker clenched and Derek was seized with horror that the pulse of it wasn’t only fear. Swallowing back the bile that had risen in his throat, in desperation, he threw himself against his bonds anew. The flex of his muscles was enough this time to actually make the bench creak. He redoubled his efforts when the hunter pulled yet another hypodermic from his pocket.

Argent flashed him a feral grin. “The wonders of technology… Am I right?” An instant later the hunter had darted around to his side. There was the  familiar stab in his hip. Derek tried to shrink away when a warm, dry palm rubbed over his flank. “Speaking of advancements, I think it’s time I told you about this little concoction I’ve been giving you.”

When the hand left him, Derek was grateful but not for long. Argent quickly moved back in front of him.

“First though, you should know, I added a little something extra to my elixir tonight, to help you relax. Heighten the sensation for you too.”

Seconds after the shot, new heat sped through Derek’s already fevered flesh.

“Maybe I’m getting _soft_ in my old age.” A wrinkled hand palmed Argent’s tented crotch to underline his cruel pun. “But even a monster’s first time taking a real man’s dick should be _special_.”

It was then Derek registered the song softly playing in the background. He’d expected the hunter to have put on his usual classical fare, but what he heard was far from it.

Staring intently at his bound bitch Gerard understood the flash of confusion on its face. “What? Did you think my tastes were so limited? In my eighty years I’ve lived through all kinds of musical movements. And my _inclinations_ are… expansive. ”

“Do you know this one? It was a little before your time.” Cocking his head the hunter waited, as though expecting an answer. “It’s an oldie but a goodie: _Tonight is the Nigh_ t by Betty Wright. The preamble for this version is a little lengthy, but that gives us extra time, to _warm up._ ”

His hand dropped to undo his belt. After pulling it free, he doubled the strap over. At the expression on the were’s face he couldn’t help but give the beast’s broad shoulders a few ‘caressing’ flicks with it. The way it jumped when the leather kissed its skin sent new blood pulsing into his already painfully hard cock.

After a few welts were raised, Gerard tossed the belt aside. He traced a long finger over the red stripes, already fading from his pet’s remarkable hide. “Fun as that is, I think I’ll save that kind of play for later.”

Seizing a handful of thick dark hair, Gerard wrenched the were’s head up as far as its bonds would allow. With his other he stroked his fingers over strong cheekbones, wet with monstrous tears.

Derek knew he was in the throes of whatever chemical compound had been pumped into him when the bite of the leather on his back shot straight to his cock, sizzling his nerves even more than the most potent collar shock. And now he was appalled to realize he was close to coming at just the sensation of the sting on his scalp, the raspy fingers on his face.

His body was completely out of his control, in every way. He bit his lips trying to keep his release at bay, but it was no use. His hips flexed spasmodically as his dick spurted out rope after rope of come.

Coming untouched… nothing more than his mast… _Argent’s_... hand in his hair was too much on top of everything else.

“Crying already, Bitch? _Again_? But I’m not even inside you yet.” Gerard had caught the pulse of the beast’s hips. Though he knew what had happened, still, he made a show of dipping his head, looking beneath the bench where his bitch’s fat, dripping clit was visible.  “And you’ve already come. With barely a touch and without permission...” He heaved out a sigh.

“What a wicked little were slut you are.

“Since this is a special occasion, I’ll be lenient. However, we’re going to seriously have to work on your control after this. But, it’s nice to know you’re so eager…”

The cruelty of the hunter’s teasing was heightened even further by the lyrics of the light music playing in the background.

_You said you’ll be gentle with me and I hope that you will. I’m nervous and I’m tremblin’, waitin’ for you to walk in. I’m trying hard to relax but I just can’t keep still, no…._

“Don’t worry. I’ll be sure and fill you up.” Gerard gave Derek a little wink. “Truth be told, I took a something myself to make sure to ‘lay the pipe right’ this first time, if you know what I mean.”

With that, he dropped the were’s head and opened his pants, pulling his dick out. The expression on the beast’s face was priceless. Of course, Gerard had to admit, he’d been pretty impressed himself. Not only had had the potion ensured he’d be able to will an almost constant erection if he desired and ejaculate numerous times over the next few hours, but it had the added benefit of adding considerable width to his ravenous eight inches.

At the desperation in the animal’s eyes, the hunter couldn’t resist. He pulled the remote from a sloppy pocket and flicked it off, while his other hand languidly stroked his fattened cock. “You have permission to speak, but it better be respectful, Mutt.”

“Please…” the word fell from Derek’s lips before he even realized he’d spoken. His cheeks burned hot at the beg in his tone but, despite the humiliation, he would turn this up a thousand times right now if it meant keeping that monstrosity out of his ass.

“Please…” he repeated, tongue flicking out to wet his lips in way he hoped read as enticing. “Use my mouth… I promise no biting.” When this earned him a less than impressed look from Argent, Derek redoubled his efforts.  “Please… Not my ass… I’ll make it good for you…M-master. So good.”

It was hard enough to get these words out, speaking made even more complicated by the constant urge to growl or sob. He was going to say more, but fell silent, his heart dropping when Argent silenced him with a single raised finger.

“Shhh now… Listen.”

The singer’s soulful voice drifted out of the port’s speaker, _Hope you’re not impatient after waiting so very long…._

“I have been so patient. All week. Waiting for the potion I’ve been giving you to work. Do you feel it? The heat in your blood. The slick dripping out of your hole.

“Your mind may not be ready to submit to me yet… But your body is. So ready. I bet even while you were just offering me your pretty mouth, your wet, wolf cunt was clenching in protest.

“No… While I appreciate the offer, I’ve been so looking forward to  pounding your fresh pussy.   _Tonight_ … and this is your chorus, Mutt...” Argent’s voice drifted off to let the lyrics speak for him.

_Tonight is the night that you make me a woman…_

Derek hung his head while the jaunty tune continued to echo of the walls

“Just replace that last word with _bitch_.” Argent chuckled above him. “That will better suit our purposes. Make it truly a song for this momentous occasion.”

Leaning forward, the hunter hummed just slightly off key into an ear pinked with humiliation and helpless rage. “Oh, yes. Tonight is the night I truly make you a bitch. _My bitch._ ” Then he straightened and hummed again, wordlessly this time.

Derek’s eyes flickered rapidly between Argent’s face and his cock. The hunter’s expression had gone thoughtful. He bit his tongue, remaining silent, not wanting to anger the man Finally, the hunter spoke.

”Still... You did just beg so prettily. And, I’ll admit, I thoroughly enjoyed your mouth this morning.” As he said this, Gerard’s ever-moving hand expertly worked his strained foreskin just behind his cockhead. “Hmmm just for fun, I’ll tell you what. If you put a little more effort into it…. Maybe, just _maybe_ … You could convince me to keep that cock cherry of yours another day or two.”

If Argent had promised to take his violation off the boards completely Derek would have heard the lie. But he didn’t. And the thought of reprieve, even for a day, maybe two… While it was stupid to hope he’d find some way to get out of here by then when he hadn’t yet managed to escape, right now he would take it.

“Please…” he started again, his voice soft this time, tentative. He was unsure, despite Argent’s words, if it was really okay for him to speak. Apparently it was, since the hunter cocked an eyebrow at him, waiting.

“Please, M-master.” Every time he uttered the word it choked him. Meeting his captor’s gaze, he continued. “Take my mouth… Please. I’ll… I’ll be a good bi…” Derek couldn’t bring himself to say it, so he quickly amended, “Dog. I’ll be a good dog for you.”

“Will you now, my proud pup?” After a silent moment Gerard sneered, “as if I’d pass up your ass so easily.

“Tell me.

“Tell me why I should grace your foul monster mouth again with my dick.”

The beast’s eyes went wide with panic as it cast its simple mind about for what to say. It really was quite comical.

“Hurry up… My cock isn’t going to wait all night.”

Derek didn’t know if it was possible for his face to get any hotter. He pushed his humiliation aside the instant Argent took a step, shifting as though he was going to head around to the back of him. Suddenly he verbally vomited up very corny porn line he’d ever heard.

“Please, Master. Please fuck my mouth, my throat… Use me. I-- I want to worship your cock. I want you to choke me with your dick. I need to taste you, M-Master.  Your cock, your come… Stuff me… G-gag me...”

When these words arrested the hunter’s movement, feeling hopeful, Derek stretched his neck forward and unhinged his jaw. He stuck his tongue out. Pink, glistening, he curled the tip of it, beckoning his captor in. Tears ran down his cheeks as the lyrics of the song in the background continued to unroll.

_Oh, but what if my mama should come home early and caught us doin’ what we’re doin’? Not only will I never live it down, but my whole family relationship, it’ll all be ruined._

The words were enough to make him hesitate. But no one was coming and if he got out of this, he’d do whatever it took to keep anyone knowing what had happened here. Glancing up he saw Argent frowning down on him.

_But we’ve gone too far now, oh, to turn around._

Heart breaking, Derek pushed his shame deeper down and pulled out his last card. He began to whimper and whine like a begging hound. The moment he did this, the hunter’s face broke into a smug grin.

“Now you’re getting the hang of it.” Gerard stepped back in front of the were and pressed close. “My little bitch, crying for its Master’s cock.” The beast stiffened at these words, but kept its mouth obediently open.

“ _Worship it_ , you said?” Gripping his potion-thickened shaft right under its nose, Gerard challenged, “Show me. Come on. Give your master’s cock a kiss.”

The open mouth snapped shut so fast at this, it startled him. Gerard could tell by its chagrined expression the bitch realized its mistake already. However, he still slapped it’s furry cheek hard with his dripping dick, first one cheek then the other, leaving precome slathered in its wake.

Eyes shut, weathering the blows, the monster whined in apology. Once Gerard ceased with the slaps, slowly, the beast stretched its head forward, lips pursed to place a soft peck on his wet tip.

“Not that way! Properly.”

This was followed with another hard cock slap. It stung but, seconds from coming, Gerard was glad for the pain. The were blinked wide at the blow, confused. The hunter sighed at its stupidity.

“That was a human kiss. You’re not human, are you?”

Fresh tears filled the animal’s eyes, and the haunted look in them made Gerard’s dick spurt. The fluid hit the were’s bearded chin. Drops clung to the fine dark hairs there before falling to the join the other emissions on concrete below.

“Are you?!”

Still edging the brink, it was almost enough to make Gerard come right there when the monster whimpered even more pathetically in apology and shook its head ‘no.’ Then it poked its pink tongue out from between chapped lips and gave a timid lick to his tip.

“Yes!”

Gleeful with this submission, Gerard moved closer so the beast could better lave his cockhead. Its tentative tongue soon became more ardent.

“That’s a good bitch.”

Tracing Argent’s slit, Derek’s taste buds were flooded with the hunter’s precome. The flavor wasn’t anywhere near as strong as his spunk, but it was there. Derek’s mouth buzzed at the first drops of it and instantly filled with saliva. Nose swimming in the musky scent of the old man’s arousal, Derek whimpered again, not in fear or petition this time but in horror, realizing something in him even more animal than his wolf had been roused by these heady chemicals and wanted more of them.

Whatever it was, this primal part rose up and took over. Before he knew it, his mind had gone dangerously blank and he was eagerly licking every inch he could get, nosing under the base of the hunter’s shaft, trying to nuzzle his way through the opening in Argent’s briefs to get at his testicles.

“Easy!”

This caution was accompanied by a stinging smack to his nose, this time by a hand. The blow brought Derek back to himself. It made his eyes water and he felt as though he might sneeze. Then there were fingers in his hair again, painfully twisting it at his scalp. Like before, the sting sent fresh blood thrumming down into his cock.

“Open.”

A new wave of shame crashed over him when his jaw dropped at the command even before the hand in his hair gave its tug of warning.

“And if I feel even the slightest scrape of a tooth… It’s not going to only be my dick in your ass tonight.”

Derek didn’t take his eyes of Argent, but he didn’t have to. He knew exactly what the nod of the gray head towards the cabinets meant. He’d seen the cache of huge dildos stockpiled there when the man had opened a cupboard to retrieve the varied plugs he’d shoved into him.

No sooner had he wrapped his lips around his teeth, Derek felt the nudge of slick, hot flesh rubbing around his open mouth. A moment later the head of Argent’s cock pressed in. It was so thick, he could barely get his lips around it. Stretching as wide as he could, already his jaw ached almost as much as it had earlier after all those hours in the gag.

“Come on, Bitch. Open up! This is hardly the _worship_ you promised me.”  

Derek closed his eyes and drew a deep breath through his nose as hands gripped both sides of his head, and the hunter shoved in. Drool running down his chin, though there was barely room for this, Derek slid his tongue along the underside of Argent’s cock, slicking along the thick vein there. He gagged himself on the heavy meat in his mouth even as he fought to relax his throat.

Tied as he was, he could barely move. Despite the pain of his bound limbs, the way his guts still twisted, strange arousal continued to flood his core. Not wanting to consider what this meant, he did his best to put his entire focus on the task at hand.

It was worryingly easy to do. Bobbing his head as much as he could, cheeks hollowed, sucking, Derek soon felt distant, floaty, as he orally attended Argent in fervent desire to appease.

Above his captive, Gerard hummed in pleasure.“Mmmmm… That’s right. Take that cock, Bitch! Look at you. This is exactly what that pretty mouth of yours was made for.”

Tightening his grip in thick hair, Gerard began to drive himself between the beast’s stretched lips. He could feel his dick catching on the back of its throat, pushing past. The tickle of lush whiskers at his base made him wonder what they’d be like against the sensitive skin of his sac.  At the brush of its swollen bottom lip at the root of his cock, the hunter wished he’d pulled his briefs down completely, not just worked himself through their slit. Spurred higher into his already consuming lust, he began to fuck the beast’s mouth in earnest.

The numb mental space Derek had drifted into shattered when the cock in his throat cut off his air completely. Slammed back into his oxygen starved body, his eyes watered heavily as he tried to wrench his head away, only to find the hands holding his head relentless in their grip.

“Hold still, you little slut, and take it!” Gerard watched the were’s whole body stiffen in panic within its bonds  “Remember what I said about teeth too!” The reminder was growled out as his hips pulsed hard.

Lewd, wet gagging filled the air as the hunter’s cock pounded Derek’s mouth. Beyond this, low in the background Derek dimly registered a new song had begun playing.  While he hadn’t known the first song, he recognized this one within its opening notes: _In the Air Tonight_ by Phil Collins.

_I can feel it coming in the air tonight, oh Lord. And I’ve been waiting for this moment for all my life, oh Lord._

Never again would he be able to listen to Collin’s distinct voice without feeling repulsed. Argent had clearly spent time compiling a hit list with maximum humiliation in mind.

Although Gerard relished the feeling of the beast’s nose smashed against his pelvis as he slammed into its gasping mouth, he knew too that he was about to come.  Pulling out just far enough for the bitch to breathe, he let it draw a gasping breath. Dark eyes drank in the reddened mouth around his cock, the froth of spit and precome leaking from its corners, hanging in sticky strings from the bearded chin.

“Look at me, Bitch!”  

 _Well if you told me you were drowning, I would not lend a hand. I’ve seen your face before, my friend, but I don’t know if you know who I am._ _Well, I was there. I saw what you did. I saw it with my own eyes. So you can wipe off that grin. I know where you’ve been. It’s all been a pack of lies._

Wide and pleading, green eyes, rose to meet Gerard’s in an instant. Long, dark lashes blinked away new tears brought on by abuse and panic. The begging held in the gaze, the desperation there, pushed him over the edge. He thrust back in choking the beast again, this time with his come. Cock convulsing with the amount of seed spewed, Gerard grunted at the power of his release; the potion rendered it so potent, for a moment he found his own breath stolen. He watched the were’s strong throat work, pleased to see it struggle to swallow before he’d even found enough air of his own to demand it.

“That’s right, you fucking come-whore. Drink that down and be grateful your master was generous enough to feed you… _Again_.”

When his dick was finally spent Gerard caught his bitch begin to pull back slightly as though it were going to slip off him.

“Hold it!”

There was a furious flicker in the animal’s eyes at the command, but this died quickly. It stilled. Mouth still close to the base of his shaft, its nostrils gusted hot breath into grayed pubes as it recovered. Panting from exertion himself, Gerard was pleased to find he was nowhere near as sensitive as he usually was after he came. Nor was he at all weary. High on the monster’s humiliation, blood still buzzing, he only felt invigorated.

He stood there relishing the wet warmth holding his dick. Gerard was even more pleased when he finally released the his grip on the beast’s dark head and it made no attempt to move. Using this as an opportunity for additional training, he remained as he was, humming along, enjoying the rest of the song.

Initially, the urge to bite down and sever the hunter’s cock was all but overwhelming and it took everything Derek had just to stay still as he’d been commanded, not that he had much choice.  He was horrified to discover, however, the longer Argent’s dick lay fat and languid in his mouth, something within him slowly soothed and the impulse to rend shifted into the soft, sporadic suckling of a tuckered pup. Exhausted and in pain, Derek didn’t fight this.  Allowing himself to be lulled, he drifted.

Time stretched on; two more songs played out. The first he didn’t recognize but the second was a version of “Amazing Grace” sung to the melody of “House of the Rising Sun.” The cruelty of having to listen to lyrics about deliverance layered between an ode to whorehouse, while his captor’s dick sat sluggish on his tongue wasn’t lost on him. Both the song and his circumstances struck him as blasphemous.

By the time the strains of “Grace” faded, strings of drool dripped from his beard. There was a puddle of saliva and dick juice below him, and yet, Argent didn’t show any signs of shrinking. Finally the hunter shifted. Derek kept his mouth still as the man slid from his mouth. He felt hard eyes upon him. Thick cock bobbing out from the slit in his shorts, Argent took a step back and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Well, that was an adventure.”

Thanks to the potion, Gerard’s body continued to hum with pleasure and arousal. Below him, the were tensed. He could tell as much as the beast hated him, it was struggling, worrying like any good bitch should, that it hadn’t pleased him. Well, there was no reason not to fuel this feeling. He gestured down to his still hard, leaking cock and clucked his tongue in seeming disappointment.

“Clearly that was more of a treat for you than me. I’m still hard. What do you say after your master gives you a treat, Bitch?”

It gratified Gerard immensely when convicted green eyes shifted away and the dark head dropped. Realizing its mistake, the monster cleared its bruised, come-clogged throat to rasp out a rough “thank you.”

Gerard tsked again. “What did I tell you before? That’s how a human offers thanks… but you…”

If the were’s ears got any redder, they’d burst into flames. Extending a gnarled hand, Gerard hummed in approval when his new bitch only hesitated a moment before extending its milky tongue to lick lightly at his fingers.

“Enough,” he snapped once his fingers were sticky and dripping. The monster cringed at his tone and immediately its tongue retreated.

Moving back from the were, Gerard went and retrieved a video camera and tripod from one of the cupboards. He set this up in front of his photogenic captive. While he would get plenty of footage from the nanny cams, he wanted the highest quality video for this part.  A new red light sprang to life as he pressed “record.”  After making sure everything was in place and running as it should, Gerard stepped up beside his bound bitch again and set a hand on trembling shoulders.

“You know, of course, I’m still going to fuck your ass now.”

He’d flipped the viewscreen over so while setting it up so that, not only could the beast see itself, but he would also be able to watch it as he fucked into it from behind. Gerard couldn’t help but laugh out loud, seeing the reflected expression on the were’s spunk-streaked face.

 _Priceless!_ It had actually been stupid enough to believe it could save its virgin hole tonight.

“But…” The word was breathed out with such abject desperation Gerard almost came again right there.

“But what, Bitch?”

Making sure to keep skin to skin contact as he traveled around the beast, Gerard’s fingertips mapped the sweat-slicked contours of strained muscles. Yes, there was no doubt this particular abomination was gorgeous. Delighting in the feel of the firm flesh under his fingers, he made a mental note to devise some sort of exercise routine for it. Until it was too heavily pregnant to move, he didn’t want such beauty to waste away.

“I agreed to spare your ass if you pleased me.” Gerard rubbed his plump cock, frotting himself between the groove of ribs far more pronounced than they had been a mere week earlier. “Clearly you didn’t.”

“You really suck at sucking, Mutt.” It thrilled him to see the way the creature shrunk in on itself at his lie.”You’re barely even acceptable as a cock warmer.”

Gerard leaned forward to leer into the camera above the traumatised were. He knew already that he was going to come to the contrast of their faces in countless replays of this moment.

As if the beast had read his thoughts the anxious spark in the green eyes died, its gaze grew stony. Gerard chuckled, assured that whatever mental embattlements the creature was erecting would be nothing but rubble long before tonight was over. Straightening seconds later, he cupped a round, firm ass cheek, kneaded it in the palm of his crabbed hand. Then he slipped his fingers along the crack of his prisoner’s ass and pulled one of its delicious cheeks aside to reveal an even more glorious sight.

Not even through its first fuck and his bitch’s hole was deep-red and puffy. Gerard could only imagine how sensitive this tender ring of flesh was going to be. The pucker pulsed, opening like a tiny mouth, hungry… No. _Starving_ for its master, its stud, to feed it. Viscous fluid drooled out of that honeyed hole with each silent pant of it. Releasing the stretched flesh, Greard watched youthful skin recoil. Despite its firmness, the beast’s ass jiggled as it settled in a way he found simply captivating.

Trailing fingers sticky now with sweat and slick as well as the animal’s spit, he ran down the back of a smooth, strapped calf. He watched his bitch’s toes curl as he traced the bottom of its foot. The beast gave a high, startled bark and tried to pull away. Gerard repeated the touch to the base of its foot. His eyes widened when the monster actually squealed: apparently the wolf was ticklish. He relented now, too eager to finally fuck his bitch, but filed this interesting bit of information away for later use.

Slotting himself between tremoring thighs, Gerard lowered his pants and his briefs. He pressed his hard cock against heated skin and hissed with pleasure as it slid, slick, up between smooth peach-ripe cheeks. His exhalation was met by a harsh, rasping gasp from the were that quickly dissolved into hoarse sobs.

“No… Don’t please… Let me try again… You can’t… I- I don’t want this… Please!”

Leaning over the beast’s broad back, Gerard rested his lean shirt-clad torso atop his captive’s fevered body and hissed in a manner that would put a kanima to shame, “Christ, even though I should beat you for still using words, I do love it when you beg. But if you haven’t gotten the memo by now, it would serve you well to learn, and quickly, that you’re nothing but an animal, a bitch at that, and what a bitch wants doesn’t matter.

“Or more correctly, the only thing a true bitch wants is whatever pleases its master.”

Gerard savored the fire these words rekindled in the bloodshot green eyes staring back at him in the viewfinder. A ferocious growl emanated below him, the rumble of it vibrating his whole body. The beast mustered its compromised strength and with its last reserves of energy bucked and writhed within its restraints.

“No!”

Clinging to the leather straps, Gerard held on. Pressed to the broad back, dick rubbing against the beast’s bare ass, the sensation was exhilarating. He almost wished he hadn’t strapped it down quite so tight. Then he would have truly felt like he was riding a rodeo bull.

It amazed him how much fight was left in the animal, and made him aware that he needed to be more vigilant. Gerard set this aside, however, keeping himself focused on the power harnessed beneath him. His hunter’s heart pounded with excitement, both at having such a potent monster at his mercy, and at the thought of how strong their offspring would be once his were-bitch had been properly bred.

Derek roared in frustration and anguish. This exclamation was directed as much at himself as Gerard. Every touch the man visited on him sizzled his synapses. When Argent had stepped between his bound thighs, he’d felt his body respond to the heat of the man behind him. He’d realized the ache in his guts was the need to be filled, desperately, and it repulsed him.

Even now, the hunter’s shirt-clad torso rubbing against his skin, the press of hairy thighs against the back of his own denuded ones, at this friction alone, still sensitive from his recent release, his cock ached as it quickly pumped itself full again. Awful as this was, his drugged body craved even more. Struck with the overpowering urge to still, to press his ass up, beg Argent to take him, Derek shouted in protest when another orgasm tore through him, his tormented cock shooting out a massive amount of come. The strength of his release reduced him to a tremoring mess. Derek cringed when Argent hooked his sharp chin over one of his sweaty shoulders to chuckle in his ear.

“Did you feel that?” The hunter laughed at the ridiculousness of his own question. “Coming again without permission though you’ve been warned. Tsk. Though I suppose you could argue that’s the potion at work.” Gerard lowered his head and pressed a harsh nip to the top of a broad shoulder where a claiming mark might go.

“Or is it, my naughty bitch? .”

Biting down again, beneath him the were snarled and tried fruitlessly to wrench its flesh free of dominating jaws. Gerard clamped down harder and growled around pinched skin, his words garbled.

“Maybe you want this… Maybe you’ve always wanted this… To be owned, to be used. You’re clearly such a miserable excuse of an alpha.”

At the flash of copper that sparked his tongue, Gerard released his teeth. He watched the indentations of his teeth fill with blood and slowly scab as the beast’s arrested healing went to work. He set his mouth upon the mark and opened it again, sucking at the wound. Pushing himself up and back he stood and spat saliva and the were’s tainted blood at its glossy hole, adding to the slick. At this his new dog barked again.

“No!”

Whether this exclamation was a response to his words or to the blunt end of his cock finally making contact with the beast’s reddened ring of muscle, Gerard couldn't have cared less. Nor could he hold himself back any longer.

There was another “NO!” and then a roar of anguish and pain as he prodded his bitch’s tight hole. The sound was glorious. More so, however was the sight: it was impossible for the hunter to decide where to look, his gaze torn between the vision of his cock kissing the were’s weeping cunt or the screen of the video camera where the beast’s handsome face had been transformed into a mask of torment.

In the end, Gerard dropped his eyes down to his dick, reasoning he could always watch the video later. _But this… This…_

He pressed his fattened organ against the pink pucker, wincing as his tight flesh bowed as he tried to force himself in: the were’s ass was so tight and his dick so thick. Gerard knew he should take some time and open the monster’s hole, but the potion should have loosened it some already and it was a monster after all. Besides, any damage done now would be healed before the next day dawned.

When the reddened pucker refused to allow him entrance, finally Gerard stepped back just enough to roughly work two fingers into the animal’s weeping channel. He thrust hard as the were strained and grunted, its wet heat clenching around the intrusion.

“Open up and let your master in, Bitch! It’s time to be bred!”

Scraping his fingertips over the creature’s insides, pressing hard against its prostate, Gerard brutally fingerfucked it for a minute, reveling in the squelch of slick and the beast’s pained sobs. Pulling his hand away, Gerard grinned at the wicked gape that greeted him now. Without another moment’s hesitation he stepped back up and pressed his thick cockhead to the fluttering hole.

Behind him, Derek could hear his rapist’s ragged breath, Argent growling both in bliss and curse at how “tight” he still was. The cadence of this was rough and off kilter to the surreal smoothness of Maroon Five’s “Animals,” the newest song in the hunter’s rape track.

_Baby I’m preying on you tonight. Hunt you down, eat you alive, just like animals. Animals. Like animals._

“Fuck!” Derek howled in pain feeling his already aching asshole battered by the hunter’s relentless prodding.  When his abused hole finally relented and his rim was stretched taut by the broad head of the old man’s potion-enhanced cock, he shut his eyes tight against the image of himself, his face, as he was violated.

With his eyes closed however, all his other senses immediately seemed even more heightened. Derek tried to close his ears to the wet sounds of penetration, but he couldn’t drown them out, not even with the louder noise of his own teary snuffling. Despite the fact his nose was clogged with snot the damp basement stink still filled his lungs, as well as the odor of his own spend and Argent’s. Over this hunter’s furious arousal hung so thick in the air it was choking.

Choking too was the bitter taste of his tormentor’s seed lingering on his tongue. Derek bit this to keep from crying out but his mind railed. _Please stop! Stop!… Stop!  Oh God! Fuck that hurts!_ Still, Argent managed to punch pained whines from him, each one seeming only to add fire to the hunter’s fury. Above him the music played on and Derek knew what he had from the start… There would be no mercy here.

_Maybe you think that you can hide. I can smell your scent for miles. Just like animals. Animals. Like animals._

Clamping his jaw shut, he determined not to give Argent the satisfaction of pulling any more noise from him. His resolution to be silent didn’t last long however, his breath punched from his lungs at being split open.

Derek couldn’t help it; he screamed through gritted teeth. Even with the slick the shots had him producing, as big as Argent was, it burned like a motherfucker. Despite the fact his guts were empty, his bowels cramped with the urge to defecate. Derek used this, fighting as he could, clenching his interior muscles, trying to literally shit Argent out of him. Not having ever been fucked before, he didn’t realize until it was too late that this strategy had the exact opposite effect he wanted.  He hissed as the hunter slid deeper inside him. In addition to the breeching of his ass, his ears were simultaneously assaulted by cruelty of the lyrics playing and the clubby throb of bass.

_Baby so what you trying to do to me? It’s like we can’t stop; we’re enemies. But we get along when I’m inside you. You’re like a drug that’s killing me. I cut you out entirely but I get so high when I’m inside you._

Trying and failing, Derek couldn’t muffle the low whines and grunts being ground out of him.

He bit his lips until they bled as Argent continued to push deeper and deeper into him. By the time the hunter had buried himself to his root, Derek swore the old man had added at least a few more inches in girth and a foot in length. He’d never felt so full, and was convinced Argent’s internal prodding reached all the way to his navel. Tears falling freely, he openly sobbed now. The pain was excruciating, but more than the physical pain, he had never felt more debased, more humiliated: strapped down, an eighty year old hunter’s cock buried to the hilt in his ass. These feelings only increased when Argent began to suddenly, viciously thrust.

There was no way to escape, he was impaled on the hunter’s shaft. Desperately Derek tried to call his wolf up again, but whatever Argent had given him was keeping his internal animal caged, locked up tight within him.

_I love your lies, I eat em up but don’t deny the animal that comes alive when I’m inside you._

The only animal Derek could feel inside him at the moment was Argent. He yelled again but the exclamation was broken, jarred apart by the brutal pistioning of bony hips. Argent took him like a dog, fast and frantic. The hunter’s balls had succumbed to gravity years before. Large in the man’s prime, they hung heavy and exceedingly low now. They slapped against Derek’s taint with a  bruising ferocity. The sound of this sagging flesh colliding with tight youthful skin ricocheted off the dank walls.

_I can still hear you making that sound, taking me down, rolling on the ground. You can pretend that it was me, but no._

“You’re mine now! My bitch, my little were cunt!” Despite his breathlessness, the hunter’s words carried over the music and filled Derek’s mind. “After tonight, no matter how many times I wash you out, you’re always going to feel my seed inside you. You’ll never be free from me.”

Derek hung his head. Beads of sweat flew from the soaked strands of his bangs as he  shook it in protest, but he knew there was truth in these words. Argent had already stained him in ways he’d never be able to scrub himself clean of.

He was broken from this thought by a bolt of pained pleasure. The hunter’s pace hadn’t faltered from the moment he’d begun moving and the horrible ache that had first gripped Derek’s guts had been quicking eroding into something else.

Gerard had never felt anything in his eighty plus years that compared with the pulsing heat of this were’s cunt around him. He tightened his grip on the leather strapping that held the beast’s hips in place as he drove himself deeper, harder, faster. He could savor fucking the wolf at his leisure later, but not now. Here, in this first time, he was going to leave no room for doubt who owned this hole.

While he’d been mesmerized by the sight of his engorged cock pumping in and out of the were’s ass,  his dick pulling the bitch’s stretched rim tauter every time he drew back, desecrating its corrupt cunt, he finally lifted his eyes. They were met with an equally glorious sight. He watched the were’s changing color, the flush spreading down the collared neck, flooding over the broad shoulders and well-muscled back.

A quick glance up at the camera’s screen at the beast’s face tearstreaked face only drove him to pump harder, it was clear despite its torment something was shifting. Gerard’s ears were astonishingly sharp for his age and in an instant,  they caught the change in the sounds he pummeled out of the beast. The noises it made were still desperate, but now they were deeper, more guttural, less pained.

“You like this don’t you, my little were slut, having your master’s big cock in your tight, leaking bitch cunt.” Gerard threw himself against the firm flesh of the animal’s round asscheeks. “Oh, you might protest a bit at first, but in another week, you’ll be begging me to stick my dick in this needy hole of yours.”

Even as he spoke, Gerard never broke his pace. The were’s breathing was getting increasingly heavy and now every few seconds it would swallow the start of a moan.

“No… I won’t. I hate this… I. Hate. You.”

The words were barely discernable with the pants and growls they contained. Gerard snorted in disbelief. Dropping one hand from the strap, he reached under his bitch’s hips and quickly found its clit, tight and heavy again. He could feel its sac twitching on the brink of release.

He squeezed it hard and grinned at the cry this elicited.

“Yes. Yes, you love this. Your little clit’s so hard it’s about to burst!” He dropped his hand away earning a full groan this time time from the monster. “Too bad for you, a bitch only gets to come on its master’s cock…” Gerard was close, he could feel the tickle in his low belly, the seed rising in his distended sac.

As much as he was shamed and disgusted by his body’s betrayal Derek was losing himself to release once again. Argent’s motions had been an almost incessant assault on his prostate. He tried to block out the hunter’s words and the continuing unraveling song that surrounded him. His guts clenched in self-loathing when, at the poor imitation of a wolf howl emanating from the soundtrack of his rape, seed boiled up into his cock and it began to spurt. Considering how much he’d come already the amount of spunk was astounding, drenching the underside of the bench, shooting high enough to hit the chin of his bowed head.

This hardly registered, however. Eyes rolled into the back of his head, Derek’s whole body shook with the strength of his coming. Impossible as it was, the potency of the sensation only seemed to grow as his bowels suddenly filled with the heat of Argent’s orgasm too.

_Don’t tell no lie, lie,lie. You can’t deny the beast inside. Yeah._

Derek’s ears rang with the end of the song and the hunter’s climatic shout. He felt his internal muscles respond, his ass clenching rhythmically as though it was desperate to wring every last drop of sperm from his assailant’s dick.

No sooner had Argent’s cock ceased pulsing than the man fell atop him, his weight pushing the newest sob from his lungs. Derek found himself desperately fighting for breath, the physical suffocation he felt from the heavily panting body draped over him was nothing compared to his psychological strangulation. He wanted to crawl out of his soiled skin, every inch of himself felt filthy. He gasped for air, his sensitive nose overwhelmed with the scent of sweat and spend. If he’d had any breath left he would have been screaming for Argent to get off.

As it was, just when he thought he might pass out, the hunter pushed up. The cool air of the basement quickly crept over Derek’s fevered skin. The man remained inside him however, still hard. In the quiet that filled the space between songs, Derek found himself praying Argent was done with him, at least for now. A whimper was torn from his throat when his captor thrust into him almost gently, rocking his hips. So soon after coming, it was too much.

“I don’t know about you,” The old man’s voice was still slightly breathless, but there was no denying the glee in it. “But I’m ready for round two.”

The harsh sounds of the opening of Nine Inch Nails “Closer” grated against Derek’s raw senses.

_You let me violate you. You let me desecrate you. You let me penetrate you. You let me complicate you._

The words left no doubt of Argent’s hellish intentions. This was only confirmed when he spoke again.

“I don’t think I shared with you the effects of what I took for myself. Indefatigable erections and the ability to come almost limitlessly for the next several hours.”

_I want to fuck you like an animal. I want to feel you on the inside. I want to fuck you like an animal._

As the song pulsed  in the background, Gerard stared down at the trembling body beneath him. He could feel the were healing, tightening its gaping hole around him even now as he lightly pulsed. Glorious. The wet sounds of slick and spend accompanying each push.

Then another sound broke the spell of his lust. The hunter stilled, his body stilling. Beneath him the beast stiffened, freezing as well. Above them both, the door to the basement creaked open and Allison Argent’s light voice called from the top of the stairs.

“Grandfather? Are you down there?”

* * *

 

Gerard’s Rape Track: 

_Tonight is the Night_ by Betty Wright: [ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pp5vHQDK_Xs ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pp5vHQDK_Xs)

_In the Air Tonight_ by Phil Collins: [ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u1_OfmrPAfo ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u1_OfmrPAfo)

_Amazing Grace_ (to the House of the Rising Sun) by Athens Creek starting at 4:30: [ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iw6vMpbppUg ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iw6vMpbppUg)

_Animals_ by Maroon Five: [ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7BJ3ZXpserc ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7BJ3ZXpserc)

_Closer_ by Nine Inch Nails: [ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FfHpRe0rRe0 ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FfHpRe0rRe0)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and know that even if I don't comment back right away, hearing from you is often the high point of my day... Plus, I did just give you twenty-four type written pages of porn.


	10. A Taste of Freedom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a late B-day present to the dark muse, IcyCryos.

Drawn blinds largely held dawn at bay but the soft glow around their edges was still enough to rouse Derek: being held for so long in the dark had left him over-sensitive to the light’s subtlest changes. Keeping his eyes closed, he drew a deep breath in through his nose and was greeted by the smell of detergent, and Stilinskis, and fresh air seeping in through cracked windows.

An overwhelming sense of gratitude seized him for this peaceful awakening. It was a rare blessing, returning gently to consciousness, not snapped into the present by his all too-frequent nightmares. Derek drew in another deep breath savoring the peace of the moment. It was still hard for him to believe that the most terrifying of his nightmares was over. That he was far away from the perpetual blackness, from the damp, filthy scents of the basement, from Argent’s constant abuse…

He was safe now.

What’s more, he was Stiles’.

Choking back a sob of relief he rolled over onto his side. Stretching out carefully, relishing his blissfully unbound body despite its quiet aches, he slid a hand across the bed to the empty space where Stiles slept nightly beside him.

It was cool.

He might have immediately panicked if his sharp ears hadn’t caught Stiles’ heartbeat still pulsing somewhere in the Stilinski home. The kitchen most likely, given the distance of the beat.

Derek blinked his eyes open, wet already with the day’s first tears. Even though Stiles was tangibly nearby finding himself alone still left him anxious. Sure, the cut of his anxiety wasn’t quite as razor sharp as it had been after he’d first been recovered, but… Pulling his hand away from the empty sheets, Derek rubbed it over his chest. His wolf’s heart ached for its new human alpha.

Its mate.

Its world.

While he knew he could call out and Stiles would be at his side in an instant, Derek bit his tongue instead. He’d been working hard not to be so needy. After battling the urge for several long minutes however, in quiet compromise he allowed himself to scooch over into Stiles’ sleeping territory. He buried his nose in Stiles’ pillow and breathed the comforting, heavy scent in.

This full body movement, small as it was, woke the deep aches in his muscles. It had been a few weeks now, but whatever mast… Argent had doped him up with during his captivity had really fucked with his biology. With all the time that had passed since he’d escaped, he was still severely weakened and slow to heal.

The drugs the hunter had given him had messed with his mind too (as if the whole kidnapping/rape ordeal wasn’t enough in itself), leaving him with vast gaps in his memory, particularly around his rescue. His therapist told him he should count this lack of recall as a blessing, or that his memories would return when his mind was ready to deal with them. Meanwhile, he’d been told by others all that really mattered was Argent was dead and he was free.

At least as free as he could be after what he’d endured.

Given what he’d been through, Derek supposed all these sentiments were true. But it still bothered him that he remembered nothing from that last night but Allison’s, and then Stiles’ voice coming down the basement stairs and him yelling at the top of his lungs for them to “Run!”

After that, everything was black.

Derek hated it.

The worst part of not remembering was being left to imagine how Allison and Stiles encountered him after doing just the opposite of what he’d shouted at them to do. His face burned. Derek scrubbed a hand over watery eyes.

_How I must have looked..._

Tied down, Argent’s cock buried balls deep inside him.

An all too familiar wave of shame crashed over him. Derek fought to keep from being swept under, but suddenly it was difficult to breathe. His mind swirled with the memories he did have, flooding him.

_Find your center, Derek…_

Hearing his counselor’s voice over the waves roaring in his head, Derek shook his head and focused all his energy on what had previously saved him. All the time he’d put into the painful practice of soothing techniques paid off. The images of his violations roiled and faded, in their place a dozen different Stiles moments appeared: Stiles smiling, rambling, focused, frowning at him in annoyance, laughing with a mouth full of half-chewed curly fries...

_Stiles..._

Who hadn’t pushed him away even after… _Everything…_

Always the contrarian, instead Stiles had told him he loved him; had taken him in and dedicated himself to helping him heal. Stiles, who had willingly agreed to be the alpha he needed to shake Argent’s spells and had since become so much more.

His mate.

A mate who promised him daily that he didn’t find him disgusting or dirty and that’d he’d no intentions of leaving him… _Ever._

While he tried to pretend otherwise, Derek’s whole body burned with how desperately he needed this. His heart hurt so fucking much with the relief of it. Closing his eyes tighter, he snuffled into Stiles’ pillow.

_Like a frightened pup._

Breath labored but evening out, he was still so lost in the tumult of his emotions, he jumped when Stiles’ cheery voice called out from the bedroom doorway.

“Hey, sleepy-wolf, I brought you some breakfast.”

_So much for werewolf super-senses._

Derek didn’t raise his head from the pillow he was hiding in and growled instead, hoping it would keep Stiles away long enough for him to compose himself. Of course, it didn’t work.

“Dad ate most of the bacon I made for you. Snuck into it while I was in the shower. You wouldn’t think they’d appoint such a thief to a position of law. It’s shocking really. Still, I managed to save some. Well, a little, more like.

“You should have seen his face when I confronted him. I swear sometimes he would seriously consider taking ‘the bite’ just so he wouldn’t have to worry about his cholesterol anymore.”

Derek allowed Stiles’ chatter and the smoky aroma of bacon to wrap around him like another blanket. He heard the clink of a plate and a glass being set on Stiles’ desk.

“Hey! What are you doing on my side of the bed?” Stiles’ tone shifted from question to tease, “Ahhh… Derek… Did you _miss_ me?”

Of course he did, desperately, but he wasn’t about to say it. What’s more, now Stiles was here, given the state he was in, Derek suddenly wished he would go away again. Too overcome to speak, he articulated this as eloquently as he could by pulling their bedding up over himself, covering his head.

Thankfully? Annoyingly? Stiles never seemed put off by his traumatised, emotional schizophrenia.

“It’s okay if you did miss me, you know. I mean, I am kind of addicting. Ask anyone. Jackson in particular.”

Stiles chuckled at his own joke. Beneath the shield of his blankets, Derek growled again, but even he would admit it sounded woefully half-hearted. Outside his makeshift were-cocoon Stiles crowed triumphant.

“Oh, so you did miss me!” However, a moment later his tone became much softer. “That’s okay. I missed you too… Even if I was just downstairs.”

Derek stiffened and his toes curled when a soft kiss was pressed to the top of his foot, exposed by his hike of the sheets.

A pang of arousal pierced his low belly. Feeling himself stir, he blushed and bit back a whimper. This was another side-effect, residue left from Gerard’s drugs: his body still had a hair trigger and with the slightest provocation he got hard and wet quickly.

Worse than just being embarrassing, the pain still held in his body usually made it too uncomfortable to do anything about; so he just had to wait it out. And with the amount of time his belligerent dick tended to stay hard, his ass wanting, this was often almost equally painful.

“Stiles…” From inside the shield of his sheets Derek grumbled his mate’s name like a threat. Despite this another kiss was pressed into the arch of his foot.

His balls hitched in response.

Derek tried to pull his foot away, but he was tangled up in the sheets now. He kicked out attempting to free his legs but the agonizing jolt when he did stopped him. His frazzled nervous system instantly dumped a huge shot of adrenaline into his veins. His heart rate sped up accordingly.

What had felt protective just moments ago was now smothering him. Panicked, the more he struggled, the more tightly the bedding wrapped around him became. When a hand was placed on his hip, seized with sudden terror, he cried out.

“Easy, Derek. Easy…”

Stiles’ voice should have helped calm him, but it didn’t. He needed to break free. To get out. Derek cursed the fact he still couldn’t turn. If he’d been able too, the sheets would have been shredded already.

“Derek, breathe for me baby…”

The hand on his hip was meant to be comforting, but it wasn’t. Derek knew he should calm down, his actions clearly beginning to panic Stiles too, as the fingers on him had tightened to the point of discomfort.

And the grip kept getting stronger.

Determined fingertips dug into him and they hurt. On top of this, Stiles’ hand was pulling on him now, rocking him back and forth. Derek imagined his mate thought the action soothing, but it wasn’t. It just triggered him even more.

Desperately, he wanted to yell at Stiles to “let go!” but he didn’t have enough air for words. The intensity of the pain and the rocking increased but all he could do was lay there: a live mummy enshrouded in his sheets, he couldn’t move.

“Derek… Derek!... Come on stay with me… Easy now… Derek…”

Derek shut his eyes tight; knowing too well he was blacking out. Stiles’ anxious voice dimmed in his ears.

“Come on...”

Everything fell silent and faded away.

Everything but the rocking.

Derek drifted, lost in limbo for who knew how long, his body a sail in an endless gray sea. At least until a storm rolled in, inciting the waves. Choppy, frothing, he was tossed within this liminal space, his body rocked ever harder, until the the violence finally broke him from his stupor.

Sensation began to return to him. The hand on him shifted and one became two. His hips ached fiercely, each held in a taloned grasp. He was caught, but not just there, his whole body was rigid, strained, every muscle screaming.

“Come on… Come on…” The voice came from far away.

Consciousness returning Derek found that where his body was unable to move, his mind twisted and leapt, trying to keep away from whoever was calling. A dark flower of dread budded in chest; black pleasure bloomed full in his gut. This potent bouquet made his eyes water. His lashes fluttered as he fought to keep them closed.

_I passed out, and now I’m trapped in another nightmare… I’m going to wake up in a few seconds. Back in bed, back with Stiles._

_This is just a bad dream..._

Even as he tried to convince himself, he could feel the thick leather straps biting into his bound body. His jaw ached from being held open, the ring gag’s metallic tang thick on his tongue. His cock was hard and leaking and his ass was full.

_So full._

His rectum burned from old frictions and his belly churned with unresolved pleasure. Sweat dripped from his bangs, his skin was slick with it. The smells of damp, of mold, of unwashed flesh, shit, spunk, piss filled Derek’s nostrils. Hot tears dripped from his closed eyes.

“Wake up! Come on!!” The words rang clear and close but it wasn’t his voice.

It wasn’t Stiles’ either.

He shivered and tried to curl in on himself as much as his restraints allowed, cringing as Argent snapped at him.

Behind Derek, Gerard punctuated his command with a powerful thrust of his cock deep into into his bitch’s sloppy open ass. “Come on, you lazy cunt. Wake up!… I’m bestowing a precious gift here, you should at least have the manners to be awake for it! ”

Gnarled hands scraped at Derek’s sides. The slap of flesh against flesh rang loud in his ears. his master’s cock pushed and pulled at his stretched rim, slid relentlessly over his prostate.

“Come, bitch!”

Thrust back into his living nightmare, Derek released a long, low moan, a combined cry of despair and desire. While his mind had been away his body remained present, its tension mounting under Argent’s assault. Because of this, he’d barely come back to himself when his cock spasmed. It was a painful orgasm that left the the concrete beneath him painted in a thick-lined, glistening abstraction.

“Ah, there you are!” Argent’s voice was gleeful. “Glad you could join me, mutt. After all, I’d hate for you to miss this.

The cadence of Gerard’s already violent thrusts picked up. Always a talker when torturing, the hunter kept his monologue going. “What happened to you, eh, bitch? It used to be you’d snap to attention the second I set my hand to the upstairs door.”

His voice was breathless, Gerard’s ramble became erratic as he approached his climax.

“And now… Now, I can stick my cock in your ass and fuck you ten minutes without you even bothering to wake up!

“Of course, I admit, it’s easier to get into that tight pussy of yours since you’re slicking yourself so nicely.”

To underscore this, he grabbed the were’s balls at their root, its bouncing sac slippery with the natural lubricant that constantly leaked from its ass now. Gerard pulled his clenched hand downwards in a milking motion. The gathering slick coated his hand so thoroughly it dripped with it. His bitch writhed and moaned again, louder, as its heavy balls were crushed together.

“Yeah, at least that part of the potion worked.”

Gerard changed the pace of his thrusts to match that of his clenching hand. “My needy brood-were with your wet, weeping hole.” The soft, wrinkled skin of bitch balls stretched as he tugged the sac down hard, letting it slip slowly through his fingers. Behind the spider gag his beast gasped.

“What I don’t understand, is why the fuck you haven’t caught yet! Your pussy certainly seems ripe and ready for it!”

Derek shouted as his testicles were released from the hunter’s grasp. He choked on another cry as Argent decided to demonstrate his point, slipping both his thumbs into him alongside his cock. The hunter used these to pry his pummeled hole open, forcing it to gape even more.

Holding it wide, Gerard watched mesmerized as his engorged cock punched into the glistening deep-pink channel. “Look at this cunt… A bitch in heat, truly.” With Derek's ass spread like this, the obscene wet sounds of squelching slick and precome were even louder than before.

Under him, the beast trembled and came again, its passage rippled with its second release. Argent stiffened his fingers against the clench when its asshole tried desperately to follow this internal motion. He set his thumbs, and pried his pet’s quivering opening even wider.

“So fucking greedy for it! Look at you!”

He jerked his dick out roughly, admiring the gape. His spelled cock twitched and spat in fury at being pulled from its fleshly burrow but Gerard ignored it for the moment, too lost in the sight of Derek’s ass: the tightly pursed pucker he’d first pressed into now a cavernous mouth crying to be filled.

“You’re a fucking bottomless hole.”

Hawking in his throat, Gerard spit into his pet’s yawning cunt before plunging back in. He resumed his grip on captive hips and pounded with renewed vigor. Once resheathed it didn’t take long for him to come. He roared his release and collapsed atop Derek.

Allowing himself a moment to catch his breath as he lay upon his prisoner’s shivering, sobbing body, he promised, “But I guarantee, mutt, I am going to fill you.”

There was no answer but for a broken whimper. Outside the tiny tremors of muscles too long bound, his bitch lay still beneath him. Gerard set his hands on broad sweat-slicked shoulders and pushed up, not wanting to contaminate himself too thoroughly with the beast’s bodily filth. He continued to remain inside the warm, slick ass, however. His still hard cock making an admirable plug, keeping his sperm in. Besides, it wasn’t as if his dick was going to go down fully without effort. The potions he continued to take ensured he’d be set for at least three more seedings easy, if he was inclined.

As he waited for tingle signalling the end of his refractory, Argent lazily traced invisible, obscene words on Derek’s back with a bony finger.

“I’ve come to enjoy our little daily rituals. So good for bonding, don’t you think?”

Derek knew the expected answer and though he hated himself, he nodded his sodden head. However, the long pitiful whine that escaped him contradicted this false agreement. Derek tensed. Fortunately Argent misinterpreted his desperation.

“Oh? You’re anxious your master to fuck you again already, are you? Well, I think I know just the thing to speed us along.”

This could only mean one thing. Derek’s whine turned to half-choked, frantic whimpers. This time Gerard heard the protest in the noise; he slapped his ass hard in response. Derek yelped at the blow.

“Open your eyes, bitch!”

Bound as it was, the beast resisted in the only way possible, dropping its dark head lower. Still, the video camera set off to the side gave Gerard a full view of the werewolf’s wrecked visage. Its scruffy cheeks were wet with tears. Snot ran freely from its nose; held in perpetual snarl by the spider gag, the creature’s upper lip glistened with it.

Keeping his cock embedded deep in his dog, Gerard leaned forward and grabbed a handful of thick hair. He pulled this back sharply.

“I said Open. Your. Eyes!”

The harsh twist that suddenly threatened to scalp him left Derek breathless. Reflexively he clenched his eyes tighter though he knew it was useless: if he didn’t open them now some sort of severe punishment would quickly follow. His stomach hitched in revolt, but finally he blinked.

The monitor set up in front of him stared blankly back, but this simple bit of unassuming technology was the greatest implement of torture Argent had so far devised. Beneath the sounds of their combined labored breathing, Derek’s sharp ears registered a quiet “click.”

A gun being cocked would have been less threatening.

The dead eye of the screen winked to life and the video started rolling. Gerard slipped a tiny remote back into the front pocket of his open shirt. “I don’t know about you… but I find a bit of visual stimulation gives me an extra kick.”

As usual when the video started, Gerard had a hard time deciding where to focus. Even after viewing it hundreds of times, the footage remained as fresh and wonderful as it had been the first time he’d watched after editing it.

Of course, there was also the new material he could see being recorded right now in the window of the rolling video camera trained on his pet’s face. Everytime he’d forced Derek to view it, his prisoner’s response changed and each new version of the werewolf’s anguish was a vision.

But besides these wonders, there was the distraction too of his bound bitch’s physical body beneath him.

His pet’s ass was still rosy from where it’d been smacked the night before with a bane dipped paddle. Its pale skin was delightfully seasoned now with these marks of ownership, the beast’s natural filth, and the residue of its his own many bodily blessings.

Glancing down Gerard was enraptured once more, seeing his dick lodged between Derek’s round, bruised cheeks.

That he’d so managed to reduce a Hale and an alpha, that he was atop, inside, a beast once of so much strength, sent a surge of new blood into his already impossibly hard cock. His rigid member throbbed to the point he thought its skin might split. Then the audio from the video finally came on.

_“Grandfather? Are you down there?”_

Given the number of times he’d been forced to view this video, Derek thought he should be inured to it by now. Unfortunately, this hadn’t happened. Every time the film rolled was a fresh, new hell.

As he watched Allison’s stylish shoes begin to descend the basement steps for the hundredth time, his heart was caught in a vice he knew would only twist tighter as the footage rolled.

Derek hid in his wolf as much as possible these days, but though he wished to lose himself in his animal, in this moment he couldn’t. Argent seemed to know this too: that no matter how it pained him, Derek was unable to look away from his pack. So he endured, his baser self barely restrained, both of them whimpering and wanting through every viewing.

That night, the night Allison called out, the cameras Argent had placed throughout the basement had caught everything from multiple angles. As it played back now on the screen, the hunter had clearly spent considerable time editing his favorite ‘home movie.’

The first shot was from the side. Only feet and legs appeared, taking a few careful steps down. Seconds later, the scene shifted to higher shot from a camera facing the basement door.

All of Allison was visible then. Put together in her usual careful way, her outfit was crisp and clean, her dark hair shining in the light of the stairwell. As filthy as he was now, seeing her this way wrenched Derek’s aching guts all the more.

Allison’s face was clear. Skin and eyes bright, she looked perfect but for the small wrinkle of concern that marred her usually smooth forehead.

_“Grandfather?”_

She took another cautious step down the stairs. But it was a moment later, the second after this, Derek’s heart truly shattered as Stiles barreled in behind her in a loose-limbed, plaid flurry. Luckily Allison was holding onto the rail, otherwise she would have clearly taken a tumble.

_“God, Stiles!”_

_“Sorry! I get a little less coordinated when I’m nervous!”_

_“A little?”_

Long arms flailed and Stiles rocked drunkenly on his own step, trying to regain his balance.

_“Well excuse me if being in the creepy house of a deranged hunter who’s wanted to kill me and about half my friends makes me uneasy.”_

It had taken Derek almost a dozen viewings to understand the audio here, because even with his werewolf hearing it was difficult to make out Stiles’ hissed words over the sounds of his own screaming.

As soon as his own recorded voice filled the room Derek tried to look away, but his neck was already so stiff he could hardly move it and Argent’s hand in his hair held tight.

“Oh… God, but I love this bit,” Argent chuckled behind him.

Gerard began to slowly circle his hips, his revived cock slowing coring his pet’s healing hole out again from its perpetual tightening. “Look at your face, dog… I’ll never tire of it.

“Priceless!” he cackled. “That expression when you realize who it is… Look!

Derek’s eyes blurred with horrible, humiliated tears but he obeyed, because he’d learned _days? weeks? months?_ ago it was futile to resist.

Seeing his pack was soul crushing enough, but there was his face now too, on the other half of the split-screen video, filmed from the camera Argent had set up in front of him that night. Had the circumstances not been so terrible, his initial look of shock upon hearing Allison’s voice would have no doubt struck anyone as hilarious.

The video played on.

Derek’s recorded surprise only lasted for a split second before his countenance morphed into pure animal desperation. Eyes wide, haunted, frantic, he’d opened his mouth and had immediately started screaming. Not shouting, screaming. His abused throat, raw from torture and rough from disuse, rendered his words more primal than any full moon howl.

As it did every time, watching himself on the screen Derek’s whole body suddenly burned with marrow charring mortification. Because, unlike the dream he’d been pulled from, in that moment when the terrible smells of his prison had been permeated by the scent of pack and he’d first heard their voices, he hadn’t been noble enough to think about Allison and Stiles’ safety first.

Instead of yelling for them to run, he’d broken immediately into begging.

_“Here!… I’m here! Stiles! Allison!_

_“Help me! Holy fuck! Help!”_

Derek had pulled the words from his lungs with such force it sent him into a coughing fit. But even left gasping for breath, once he’d started he couldn’t stop.

_“Get this crazy fucker off me!”_

_“Stiles!”_

_“Alli…”_

In the present, Derek tried to shut out the sound of his broken pleading as he was forced again to witness his devastation. How many times would he have to relive the terrible fracture he felt when Stiles and Allison didn’t do anything, just lingered there bantering on the stairs?

_“Hush, Stiles… Grandpa doesn’t have werewolf hearing, but it’s still pretty sharp. If he’s down here in his workshop he might hear you._

_“Besides, like I told you, he’s mellowed. We don’t have anything to worry about.”_

Stiles snorted, his disbelief obviously unshifted by her assurances. _“Fine, let’s find the old coot so we can get out of here.”_

Allison shot him a smirk. _“Sorry, I’m not enough to make you feel safe against a sick old man. Too bad the house’s mountain ash framing kept Danny out. Maybe you’d feel better having him here to hold your hand.”_

They were coming down the stairs now, though Stiles paused at this comment to respond, clearly so agitated he was unable to do something as complex as talk and descend simultaneously.

 _“Ha, ha. Very funny!”_ He made no attempt now to be quiet. _"As far as I'm concerned, t_ _hat jerk can stay out in the car all night.”_

 _“Oh, come on, Stiles, it was in poor taste, sure. But it was a joke.”_ Allison’s soft voice had lost all trace of tease. She grabbed one of his twitchy hands and led him down the stairs behind her.

_“Nothing fucking funny about it. Saying he’d deign to kiss me to get my mind off kissing Derek. Our alpha’s missing and it’s my goddamn fault and…”_

At the time the video was taken, Derek had missed all of this, he’d been so lost in his shouting, evidenced on his side of the video screen in the strained cords of his neck, the frothy spittle flecking out of his mouth.

_"Please! For the love of God, help me!"_

_"Fuck! Please. He's fucking hurting me! Get him out of me!_

_"Please, please Stiles! Help me!_

_Someone, please!"_

Outside the monitor, Derek shut his eyes for a few seconds. Argent’s hands rubbed roughly over his back, further tormenting with the ghosts of that moment. He’d done the same thing then: cruel fingers tracing over his flesh, stroking and pinching his adrenaline pumped muscles. Starting just above his ass Argent had worked his way up, ending with the hunter’s hands wrapped loosely around his collared neck in a parody of strangulation.

Derek’s eyes shot open when Argent spoke. He trembled finding that the hunter seemed to have read his thoughts. The flat of a palm crushed his stiff collar against his Adam’s apple and he fought not to gag.

“Your throat felt so good in my hands, the vibration of your begging under my palms.

“Were you aware that every time you screamed for your pack, your pussy clenched? The way your cunt tightened around me when you cried… It was delicious.”

Derek hadn’t known. The only thing in his mind in that moment had been a horrific confusion: unable to understand why his friends weren’t responding to his pleas. Hearing this now just added fresh salt to his already terrible woundings.

“Watch Bitch… This is another of my favorite parts.”

Despite the threat of the hands around his throat, in the video now Derek’s crying had become hysterical. Gone was any semblance of his usual silent stoicism and left in its wake were the blood chilling wails of a true victim.

There was no posturing, no dignified ‘manly’ tears, no single, wet trail slipping down a chiseled cheek. His face was a wreck. His own eyes, bloodshot, red-rimmed, and weeping gazed unseeing back at Derek from the video. Snot leaked from his nose, it ran down over bitten lips, stretched with his screaming, to join the drool dripping from his chin.

Witnessing this Derek felt the fragments of his pride further ground down into dust.

It was humiliating enough being pierced by his own howls, forced to watch his own anguish over and over, but Derek had also become aware in the many multiple viewings of Argent’s torso visibly undulating behind him. His eyes shifted to this now. Then to the rhythmic jerks of his own shoulders.  
Both movements revealed that after the initial momentary pause at the sound of his granddaughter’s voice, Argent had started up again: he’d continued to fuck him at a lazy, unconcerned pace throughout his screaming.

 _“Stiles!”_ Derek howled.

Beneath this Allison sighed. _“Stiles…”_

While Derek’s face wore a tortured mask, Allison’s expression in the video was one of patient exasperation. The visible contrast made Derek’s stomach hitch with the urge to vomit. Like the bile he was constantly swallowing back, replaying this instant, over and over, there was never any relief.

_“Deaton said he’s alive. And given the circumstances, I’m not as worried as I might be otherwise. You shouldn’t be either. Derek’s a big boy, but like Lydia said he doesn’t really do emotions... or intimacy of any kind. You should know that as well as any of us…_

_“In fact, did it ever cross your mind he might have been the one to put the anti-tracking spell on himself? Especially if he thought you might stalk him… try to confront him with what happened._

_“I know it’s hard to believe with all we’ve been through, but I don’t think his life’s in danger this time. Call it intuition, but I feel like he’s around here. Close by but just lying low._

_“He’ll come back when he’s ready. You can’t…”_

At this point, the night it happened, Derek’s wolf inner wolf had been rabid, unable to understand what was going on. Allison’s ramble had been lost on him. All he’d known was that from where he’d been tied to the bench, he could see her and Stiles hovering on the steps from the corner of his eye, literally less than a dozen feet away from him, ignoring his frantic cries.

Stopping their descent again, Stiles pulled back on Allison’s hand and cut her off.

_“Gross! What the fuck? Is that what I think it is? I can’t believe what I’m seeing!”_

It was this exclamation that had penetrated through Derek’s begging then. On the video his mouth snapped shut on a broken sob.

Out in the present Gerard leaned over the sweaty back of his beast. He hooked the first two fingers of each hand over each of the cheek straps on the gag holding the were’s mouth open. He used the strapping like reins, pulling the dark head back. The grip on the gag simultaneously provided him with additional leverage to force himself deeper inside his bitch’s body.

The potions he’d taken didn’t just make him hard: Gerard's balls had enlarged considerably too. Swollen with seed they pulled his aged sac even lower. It swung heavy and full, slapping wetly against the werewolf’s taint and stretched far enough at time to smack into its balls. Tender and bruised from all its own comings, these collision’s pulled such wonderful whines from it.

Gerard bit hard across broad shoulders. Hips never ceasing their motion, he chuckled in between scraping his teeth over the short cropped hairs at Derek’s nape. Finally he hooked his pointed chin over one bite-marked shoulder. His position now almost exactly mirrored himself in the running images of the video.

On the soundtrack his recorded voice was cruelly teasing:

_“Oh, it looks like they’ve finally seen you… Broken through my cloaking spell. The calvary will charge any second now. But will they even want you back after seeing their alpha bitched like this?_

_“Will they ever be able to look at you without picturing you under me? Ass full of my seed and filthy from your own comings?”_

“You thought they were talking about you then. Remember?” Argent’s wrinkled lips pressed to Derek’s ear as he hissed. Derek wept, feeling the pain and the terrible shame of it anew.

On the other side of the video screen Allison and Stiles kept talking.

_“Is that a real Kanima head?”_

_“He’s a hunter, Stiles. It’s not uncommon for a hunter to keep a few trophies.”_

_“But a fucking Kanima? Seriously, Allison?”_ Stiles snorted, _“I guess I should be grateful the wall’s not covered with were heads too.”_

Allison’s voice went small and embarrassed. _“Daddy made him get rid of those.”_

_“And what’s on those benches? I get the weapons and the potions, but what’s on that table?”_

It appeared Stiles had decided to step away from their charged discussion of Derek and instead down further into the basement.

_“Grandpa’s turned to making monsters instead of hunting them.”_

Now he knew what they were saying, Derek was pierced by the poignancy of these words unintended double meaning. His self-declared master didn’t miss it either. Argent barked a loud laugh into his sensitive ears. In Derek’s present circumstances, it was Stiles’ reply however, that cut deepest.

 _“Who the hell would want something like that?”_ Stiles was peering hard into what lay past the bottom of the stairs. _“Twisted creations made from an even more twisted mind.”_

 _“Hey! Would you rather he be out running around killing things again, stalking our pack, instead of entertaining himself here in his workshop?”_ Allison had puffed up with unconscious familial indignance.

 _“I guess…”_ Stiles didn’t seem entirely convinced.

_“He’s actually got some pretty mad woodcarving skills, it turns out. And a pretty steady clientele… I mean, they’re other hunters mostly, but...”_

_“It figures.”_ Stiles stepped off the final step, joining Allison at the base of the stairs. _“All right. I suppose I should give old Gerard’s hobby a closer look before I write my final review on his new ‘art form.”_

This was the moment on the other side of the screen when Gerard had revealed the truth to Derek.

_“You’ve surely figured out by now, despite what I said earlier about the ‘cloaking spell’ that they can’t see you or hear you._

_“There is a spell in place of course, several of them actually, but none have been broken.”_

Gerard had stopped fucking Derek long enough to explain. _“All they hear is each other’s voices and the low music of a portable radio that’s been left playing in an otherwise quiet basement. What they see is a makeshift woodworking workshop in a former hunter’s ‘man cave’ with some of his trophies on the walls.”_

Derek’s eyes had gone wide at this, his face white with realization.

_“That’s right bitch. Scream, howl, piss and moan… As long as they don’t pass more than four tiles in, over the cloaking threshold you don’t exist here to them. I put a warning hex at the entry point too to discourage crossing it. I wonder if your brat Stiles with his ‘sparkle’ powers will heed it?”_

Derek held his stuttering breath when Stiles had immediately seemed ready to provide them with an answer,

 _“Let’s go see this master woodcrafting then,”_ Stiles said, stepping forward.

Allison caught his arm, her expression troubled. _“Come on Stiles, let’s just go. My grandpa’s clearly not down here. Besides, he really doesn’t like people messing with his work.”_

Just as he was now in the present, Gerard had bitten along Derek’s jawline before inflicting the worst torture so far.

 _“What do you say… Should we make this interesting?”_ He’d punctuated his question with a deep, hard thrust into Derek’s ass.

_“A simple, whispered incantation and I can break the spells. They’ll hear you yell then, see me fucking you._

_“As I said before, I’ve no doubt they’ll try and rescue you.”_ Gerard started slowly pumping again. He was using long slow slides, pulling out far enough to just catch the edge of his purpled cockhead on Derek’s bloody rim before pushing back in.

“ _But I really can’t have them stop me. You see, Allison wasn’t wrong about my new hobby of making monsters… That’s what I’m doing here with you._

_“All those shots you’ve been getting, the sigils on your bindings. They’re changing you. No doubt you’ve begun to feel the effects on your body already. Making you ready… knitting a womb inside you._

_“I’ve been calling you my bitch... Not in jest._

_“All the seed I’ve been filling you with, soon it’s going to catch. You’re going to swell and that dirty werewolf cunt of yours will spit out its first litter. Half were… half human… They’ll be my perfect hunting dogs.”_

There’d been no time for Derek to recover from learning that Allison and Stiles had no idea he was there despite the fact the were so fucking close, before Argent dealt him this second blow of truth. It sent his battered psyche reeling.

_“I’m going to build a pack of my own that no monster will be safe from.”_

_“You’re crazy…”_ Derek’s voice was rough, shredded from his screaming and with the horror that, if anyone could bring such a hideous thing to pass, it would be Argent. The cock stuffing his aching guts suddenly felt a hundred times bigger.

 _“Maybe…”_ Argent wiped a bony thumb over Derek’s cheek. He put it in his mouth and sucked off the salt of werewolf tears.

_“Because in this moment I’m crazy enough to give you a choice. With a simple incantation I’ll make it so you can puncture the silencing spell. They won’t be able to see us or hear me or anything I’m doing to you, but they’ll certainly be able to hear you._

_“You can choose to scream then… If you have any voice left after all the racket you’ve been making, stupid mutt. Once they can hear you, they’ll push forward through the cloak and we’ll be revealed._

_“But you should know I have guns tucked in that cabinet Hale. Loaded and ready. And as old as I am, I have the element of surprise on my side._

_“I’ll have my cock out of your ass and your pack slaughtered before they even register what it is they’re seeing.”_

_“But Allison…”_ Derek weakly countered.

_“Love my granddaughter, traitorous sympathizer though she is, but in war, sacrifices have to be made. And my son, another turncoat… Well, he isn’t that old. He can make another… I mean, look at me. I’m over eighty and about to sire dozens...”_

Derek didn’t dare say Stiles name. He knew he couldn’t utter it without completely revealing the depth of his feelings so he tried another tack.

_“Danny…”_

_“He can’t hear what’s happening in here. Can’t come in either. Think I can’t slip out and get him too? That little fairy were has no chance. In fact, maybe I’ll just add him to my breeding pool. He might even like it. A big juicy cock filling his ass at all hours.”_

The thought of Danny being subjected to Argent’s assaults was worse than imaging his three pack members dead.

 _“What choice do I have then?” E_ ven as he rasped out the question, the awful dread that pooled in Derek’s stomach said he knew the answer already.

_“You, bitch, can show true submission. Lay here like a good breeding hole does. Take your master’s seed in silence and your old pack gets to live another day, none the wiser of the fate they just escaped.”_

Before Derek could respond Gerard whispered a quiet spell into his ear. The moment he uttered the last word the hunter began rutting, fast and frantic, jackrabbiting his cock into him.

Outside the video, Derek watched himself being pounded through the eye of the camera. Tears flooded glazed eyes as he allowed himself to be silently raped, Argent pummeling him hard enough to drive the creaking breeding bench inches forward over the concrete.

On the other side of the screen Allison and Stiles were engaged in a friendly squabble about Stiles being ‘accident prone;’ how much time they’d waste once he really started looking at Gerard’s monsters; and whether he would or would not be able to keep out of the hunter’s potions. In the midst of their friendly arguing a particularly vicious slap to the back of one of Derek’s quaking thighs caused him to hiccup as he bit back a scream.

Observing himself now, Derek was broken anew when Stiles suddenly stilled and cocked his head slightly to the side. It was a mannerism he’d picked up after spending so much time with the pack, something Stiles had started doing unconsciously that Derek had secretly always found heartwarming.

Allison frowned and rolled her eyes when Stiles held up a hand for silence.

_“What?”_

_“I thought I heard something.”_

_“That’s just the radio.”_

_“No… It’s not that. And by the way, Allison, what the hell is your gramps listening to?”_

Allison cocked her head this time. The moment Gerard had heard her voice at the top of the stairs, he’d silenced the soundtrack in his lair, but his rape track was still playing at a low volume in his illusion.

 _“Huh… Lily Allen, maybe?”_ Allison shrugged. _“What? Grandfather has always had eclectic taste in music.”_ Seeing Stiles’ raised eyebrows she gave an indignant snort. _“You were expecting Lawrence Welk maybe? That’s so ageist Stiles.”_

Stiles rolled his eyes so hard his head threatened to tip backwards. “ _Ageist? Whatever. Your grandpa is a freak, Allison. But it wasn’t the radio that I heard. It sounded like… I dunno… Someone hurt.”_

Once he said that they both fell quiet.

In their sudden silence the music played on; the song’s lyrics audible. In editing the video Argent had muffled the sounds of his fucking and increased the audio so Derek couldn’t miss them anyways, even if he’d wanted to.

_“Trade your balls in for a pair of tits, because it’s hard out here for a bitch…”_

Just as he had in that moment, every time this segment played Derek still shivered at the hopeless irony of the words. It chilled him to the core, the fate Argent had planned for him.

As they listened in the recording, when no new sound came, Allison quickly grew impatient.

_“I think you’ve just creeped yourself out, Stiles and now you’re creeping me out too. There’s nothing down here. Come on… I bet Grandpa’s out in the kennel with his hounds.”_

_“I know I heard something Allison.”_

They had been a mere four tiles away from Derek, just over four feet. So fucking close. But for their awareness of him, they might as well be four thousand miles away. As much as he’d wanted to cry out, after Argent’s threats Derek swallowed his cries. He silently cursed and prayed they’d keep their distance.

_“No, you’re stalling Stiles, because Grandpa’s works have you curious and you want to explore his space. Look, when we find him, I’m sure he’ll be happy to tell you all about his new hobby.”_

The discouragement hex Gerard had put in place was clearly doing its work on Allison. She was clearly uncomfortable and wanting to leave. Unease was apparent in her voice, irritation rising to its surface in her desire to get out of the basement.

_“You guys can set up a ‘man-date’ to discuss them, but it’s getting late and I just want to do my daughterly duty for my dad and get home.”_

While their comfortable, if slightly heated, back and forth droned on in the background, jaws set, Derek had bitten his tongue to stay quiet while continuing to be brutally fucked and slapped by Allison’s “mellowed” grandfather. On screen, blood bubbled from his mouth. It ran over his trembling bottom lip and dripped down his stubbled chin. As an oblivious Stiles and Allison continued their bickering, what was at first a visible trickle became a steady crimson stream leaking between Derek’s tightly pursed lips.

He’d bitten more than halfway through his tongue that night to stay silent.

In realtime the metallic taste of the ring gag Derek wore turned to the copper of blood in his mouth as he re-lived the moment, caught in the double violation of his rape then and the one he was now enduring. His master fucked him with the same violence he had that night, ramming him so hard dark bruises were blooming beneath the bench’s leather bindings, his pale skin pinched against the straps.,

Gerard was determined this time his seed would take. It better: it was far past the time his bitch should have been fertile and the fact that there was no sign of spawn yet was driving him mad.

Derek watched the ending of the video approach with now-familiar anguish, Stiles and Allison finally heading back up the stairs together. As they ascended a new orgasm coiled in his balls and tickled his cock. He sobbed. It rose within him, the tension in his body continuing to mount despite his heartache.

Whether or not Argent ever accomplished fully what he’d planned or not, Derek knew he’d been changed already. The more Argent fucked him the more easily he came and he hated it. Shame and relief washed over him simultaneously as his hips jerked and his cock spat again. This time barely a dribble came out, his balls all but emptied by his two earlier orgasms.

“That’s right, milk my cock bitch. Pull that seed into your greedy were cunt.” Gerard’s words were as jagged as his breath, his own orgasm approaching along with the end of the film.

Still awash in the receding waters of unwanted pleasure from his release, Derek felt his inner walls continue to pulse around Argent’s cock. His asshole seemed to have a mind of its own these days. The rippling of his internal muscles sent electrical aftershocks zinging up and down his spine.

Once his vision cleared, Derek’s eyes were drawn to the monitor once more. He’d never been able to tear his gaze away, from this part. Stiles and Allison had been two thirds of the way up the stairs when Argent had called out something in latin. It wasn’t until they’d shared this video a dozen times at least his captor chose to reveal what he’d done with this incantation.

On the steps, Stiles stopped and turned. His amber eyes widened when he glanced back down the stairs and he swayed backwards into Allison.

 _“Are you trying to kill us both, Stiles?”_ Allison braced herself against the railing to stay upright under his weight.

 _“But…”_ Stiles mouth moved, remarkably no words followed, he just stood there gaping like a fish. He shook his head and rubbed his eyes. Blinking he stared hard into Gerard’s workshop.

_“But what?”_

_“I… Think… I… Saw…”_

_“So now you’re seeing things as well as hearing things?”_ Allison’s patience was clearly at its limits. _“What is it you think you saw, Stiles?”_

 _“I uh…”_ Stiles was obviously shaken. His face had gone pale, but for the hectic color splashing his freckled cheeks. He kept blinking, glancing back down into the basement. Finally he rubbed the back of his head and sighed.

_“Gerard’s really retired from hunting?”_

Allison sighed and nodded. _“When we find him… If I can ever get you out of here… You’ll see for yourself. There’s no way he could manage that kind of activity these days.”_

“And I’m just creeping myself out.”

Alison shot him a concerned look: Stiles sounded so earnest in his need for assurance.

_“Yes, Stiles.”_

She turned and climbed the last few steps. Stiles followed after her, but not without turning to look back half a dozen times in as many stairs. The higher he climbed the more tension bled from his shoulders. As he exited the door after Allison, Stiles said to her, _“remind me to ask Scott for that myth book he borrowed from me. I have a sudden urge to read Eurydice.”_

Allison laughed, her voice much lighter, _“And you think my Grandpa’s the weird one.”_ A split-second later the door closed behind them. The left side of the split screen now showed nothing but the empty stairwell.

On the other side an aerial view showed Gerard’s bare, flat backside, his skinny hips snapping as he fucked himself out at last. Derek’s side of the screen played on and in less than a minute after Allison and Stiles left Argent’s hips juttered and he came deep inside his ass.

Out in the present, with hours of practice Gerard had perfected his timing now. His coming groans filled the basement in stereo.

“Do you think Stiles still wonders about that moment?” Gerard was pressed against Derek’s back once more. His breath ragged and reeking of magic as he panted into his ear.

Derek made no sound. His master wasn’t really asking for an answer, even if he could have given one. Argent just liked to remind him that the last spell he’d uttered in the footage had torn the veil of his illusion for just the barest of seconds and that Stiles had seen them then, revealed.

_Completely._

“I wonder if that flash lodged fully into his consciousness or if he’s talked himself out of it?” Gerard reached gnarled fingers out and scraped the drool and snot that hung still from Derek’s chin and fed it back to his bitch. His fingers absently stroked the were’s tongue through the “O” ring.

“Or it could be branded into that overactive brain of his. Maybe it’s something he pulls out from time to time. I wonder if it’s an image he’d jack off to? Hand on his dick, head tipped back as he imagines himself in my position.”

“Do you think it would affect his searching for you? Make him more eager? Thinking that you’d be _his_ bitch. Or maybe he’d somehow know how you’ve been despoiled. That might make him less concerned. Even better would be if he somehow understood that you’re right where you should be. That you belong here with me, with someone who knows how to tame a belligerent hound. Keep a worthless mutt in its proper place.”

Derek was used to hearing this now. Not just from Argent, but from the voices that filled his head during the hours he spent locked in the darkness. He let his master’s words scrape over him, as he obediently sucked on the hunter’s fingers as best he could while gagged. Now that his pack was out of sight, his wolf, or “the bitch” as he’d begun internally referring to it, was allowed out. It immediately twisted and twined its tongue around, dipping between its master’s digits hoping to please.

Gerard was pleased by the beast’s soft whimpers as he teased it. Even more so when he pulled his spit slick fingers from its mouth and it extended its still-scarred tongue out through the ring gag, chasing them.

“Your front hole’s just as greedy as the back. Isn’t it, mutt?” He sighed, spent for the moment. “Alright then.”

He let Derek’s head drop and pushed up off the werewolf’s exhausted body. Gerard made sure he had a long thick plug ready before pulling out of his beast’s bludgeoned ass. Derek’s hole had been pounded bloody. Wide open, it pulsed, like a gasping mouth. The hunter admired his cum pooled just inside the red, swollen rim.

A bit of his seed, pink-tinted, threatened to spill out. He caught the drip on the tapered end of the plug and pushed it back inside as he worked the black, silicone stopper in.

“Don’t want to waste any of that, now. Do we?”

When Argent pulled out, Derek was distraught with how he felt: the hollowness in his chest after watching the video combined with the sudden emptiness in his ass was devastating. The bitch in him couldn’t stifle its sad noises, bereft at the loss of its master’s cock. The moment the tip of plug touched his rim, he began to whine and wiggle his bound ass as much as he could to help work the plug back into him.

It seemed Argent must have worn himself out, since he didn’t tease as much as he usually did. Still, Derek came dry as the thick rubber settled inside him. Once it was securely in place, only then did he begin to settle as well. His wolfish, bitch nerves soothed by the heft and the fullness, and with the knowledge that as long as he was plugged, he didn’t risk upsetting his owner by losing any of the precious fluid he’d been filled with.

Gerard traced and toyed with his beast’s healing rim. It still fascinated him the way it tightened back to a virginal vice after each use, something he took full pleasure in. He gave Derek’s ass a few whacks for good measure, but didn’t whale on it like he normally would have. He was tired, though he wouldn’t admit it. Keeping up his scheduled seedings would have been hard on a man half his age, even with the help of the potions. On top of being weary, now that he’d come, Gerard needed to piss.

Derek heard his master stepping around to the front of him, but it didn’t really register right away. His eyes were fixed on the screen. Usually by this time he’d turned himself back over to his wolf completely, but tonight, though he’d let the bitch out, he was still present.

He kept watching.

One side of the screen was still rolling. When Argent had finally finished his assault and pulled out of him that night something inside him had broken completely. His sobbing had the bench shaking. Rough, hoarse sounds of animal anguish filled the room broken only by bloody hiccupping when he choked on his torn tongue.

And all the while Derek was lost in his anguish, behind him Argent had been calmly tucking himself back into his pants, straightening himself up.

As the video played on, unconcerned with his captive’s total breakdown, the hunter had gone to a drawer, pulled out a small atomizer, and sprayed himself down. The bottle contained scent blockers, Derek would later learn.

 _“I'd better head out to the kennels so Allison can find me. Don’t want to distress my granddaughter, after all.”_ Gerard laughed as he said this and gave a half pat - half smack to the back of Derek’s bowed, oblivious head.

Argent stepped away and walked out of the screen, leaving the weeping werewolf the lone figure in the shot. Derek waited to see the hunter emerge again to climb the stairs, but he didn’t reappear. _“Be a good bitch while I’m gone, won’t you?”_ was called out beyond the frame, there was the ‘click’ of a switch and the light went out. The sounds of Derek shattering continued on several long seconds more before the monitor fell silent.

The screen turned pitch-black then blue, indicating the video was finally over.

Derek's view of the monitor was cut off, Argent now stood in front of him. He dropped his eyes. His sensitive nose crinkled despite how mucus-filled it was at the dirty dick suddenly thrust under it.

“Clean me up.”

Gerard hadn’t washed Derek out before breeding him, the muddy streaks of shit on his cock made this obvious. There was blood too, from where his furious fucking had torn the werewolf’s rectum. The hunter grinned seeing the pink of Derek’s tongue flicker out from within the ring of the gag to taste his tip. It made it all the more enjoyable watching his dog flinch at the flavor of its filth but press forward regardless.

“You’re finally catching on… Good.”

He'd tamed Derek enough he could fuck his bitch’s mouth without the gag and did so frequently these days, but docile as his bitch was becoming it still got a little growly about licking shit. And since the full moon was near Gerard wasn’t about to risk his dog getting nippy in revolt.

However, Derek’s tongue stayed enticingly extended as he fed his cock through the ring. Still, Gerard grabbed a handful of bangs and held the beast steady, anticipating its gagging and the pull once the werewolf got the true taste. He wasn’t disappointed.

As much as he tried not to balk, Derek was hard pressed not to. The dogfood Gerard fed him for most of his meals tasted like shit straight out of the can to start with, but it was far worse once digested. Bile rose in his throat which only magnified the foulness, but right now Derek wanted to please his master.

Grateful his were biology was still holding enough to keep him from falling ill from consuming his own waste, he braced himself,and sucked Argent’s cock deep into his throat. Derek suckled, tongue caressing his master’s length, steadily slurping for all he was worth in between the occasional gag. He fought not to dwell on the foul taste of bitter seed, shit, and blood.

Gerard pushed all the way down his bitch’s throat. He’d destroyed its gag reflex the first week he’d had it, but with were healing, it still got sensitive from time to time. The hunter was quite certain however, that the occasional retching sounds his pet made were more from his taste than his thrusts.

His dick had deflated some after his last coming, but it still stood at half mast. Within the wet, warm wonder of Derek’s mouth Gerard felt his cock stiffening again. His pet worked its throat muscles around his length, creating a similar tightness that he had only just minutes been buried in. But he slowed his thrusts, not wanting to become fully roused. As much as he would love to breed his bitch all day, he had some other things he had to attend to.

Derek’s gut hitched again when Argent pushed balls deep into his throat. Nose buried in gray pubic hair, the pungency of the hunter’s unwashed body, of shit and sweat, piss and come and his own slick overwhelmed him and made his eyes water. Rather than pull away though he pressed closer.

His mind was replaying the end of the video over and over. He was internally flaying himself for not staying present longer in the past when the video rolled. But once his pack (Stiles) left, it was so much easier to check out. Besides, he’d no desire to see himself so totally lost as he was after they were gone.

But Gerard had left for the kennels that night, exited the basement without taking the stairs. Before noting this Derek had spent hours searching his prison whenever it was illuminated, searching for a way out. He’d found nothing. But if Argent had cast a cloaking spell once, he could have easily done it again. The more Derek thought about it, the more it made perfect sense.

Hunter Argent wasn’t likely to spend time anyplace where there wasn’t more than one way out.

There had to be a door hidden in the room behind the breeding bench and Derek was determined to find it.

Finding it would do him no good however, if he was constantly bound. His master had been giving him a little more leeway, of late when he “exercised” him. But Argent wouldn’t risk letting him stay unencumbered unless he was convinced his “pet” wasn’t going to cause trouble.

“Eyes up! I don’t want you wandering away on me!”

Derek cursed himself for not waiting until Argent left him again before falling into rumination. He blinked sticky lashes and looked up. God he hated Gerard Argent’s face. Still, he made his eyes show nothing of this; instead he kept them open wide and imploring.

Pushing in further again, his tongue stretched out of the gag to lap at the skin of his master’s balls just below the base of his cock.

Gerard’s eyes widened at the sensation. Fuck, that was new. He stared down into his bitch’s deep green eyes. It stared back up at him, begging. It whined around his cock and the vibration of it felt amazing.

“You think you deserve a treat, do you?”

The beast’s eyes dropped away in a manner that under different circumstances, say, if his bitch was human, Gerard might have deemed coy.

“Well, I’ve got something for you.” He pulled his dick out so that only the tip rested on the edge of the gag’s ring. His bladder had been yelling at him for a while now and if his dog wanted a treat…

Derek sputtered when the strong, hot stream of piss hit the back of his mouth. He opened his throat and tried to keep it open like he did when Argent came. Despite his new proficiency in this, there was so much more piss than come, however. The acidity of it burned and he choked, though he should have been used to this by now. More than once, given the number of times the hunter had made him drink the foul swill of his bladder Derek had decided if he weren’t a were, his stomach would have already ruptured, corroded by Argent’s caustic piss.

The mutt was trying to keep up, but Gerard had been holding it for some time. He was annoyed with how it sputtered and choked, the way his ‘treat’ was now running down its fuzzy chin.

“Stop swallowing and hold it!”

It thrilled him the way the bitch responded to his command immediately. Gerard leaned over and undid a couple buckles allowing it a little more movement. He could tell how much it pained Derek, but still, his pet immediately tipped his head back to make a better container.

Gerard watched, momentarily entranced by his stream pouring into Derek’s open mouth. How quickly it pooled and filled it. Before long, stubbled cheeks were puffed tight to accommodate. Though uncomfortable, Gerard cut himself off.

“Hold it now. Don’t swallow!” Chuckling he pulled his dick away. “Not often I tell you that, eh mutt?”

He waited a full minute, watching his pet struggle to breathe through its snot-clogged nose. Still not finished, he turned his stream on again in Derek’s red face. Continuing to laugh he watched the werewolf close its eyes but hold still, trying to keep from spilling as it was drenched with his piss. By the time his bladder was finally empty, Derek’s hair was soaked, his face dripping.

“Go ahead now. Swallow all that down.”

Gerard’s hand stroked his pet’s straining neck where it was exposed above its collar. His nails dug into the tender flesh just enough to make his bitch wince. He didn’t release Derek, however. He was too much enjoying feeling the beast’s muscles work beneath his fingertips as it struggled to swallow the excessive fluid without drowning.

Derek’s Adam’s apple bobbed furiously as he tried to down the massive amount of urine he’d been holding in his gagged mouth without choking or spilling any of it. Not just to please Argent, but also, as vile as it was, he knew he needed the fluids. After the last swallow, belly hot and full, yellow drops clinging to his lashes, he blinked his eyes open to carefully look up at his master.

“Not bad,” Gerard hummed. After wiping himself somewhat clean on his pet’s hair he tucked himself away. Then he reached out and rubbed a hand again over Derek’s soaked head, as if to push his mark of ownership into Derek’s very pores.

“Like the taste of your master, do you?”

Derek let the bitch rise within him to keep his expression guileless. He nodded his incredibly stiff neck slowly and gave what he hoped was a grateful sounding whine.

Gerard frowned as if unsure. Then looked at his watch. He snorted at the time.

“Good,” he said as he turned the video camera off. “Because that will have to hold you for a while.” Old eyes swept over the room making sure there wasn’t anything he was forgetting. “If you’re good, I’ll feed you when I get back. Maybe let you exercise.”

The words were offered to the air as much as Derek and he knew it. He lay there; lean sides still heaving as he continued to pant, his abused throat and taxed lungs not yet convinced they were getting enough air.

Derek watched Argent leave. Alone in the dark minutes later he carefully stretched out as much as he could where he’d been left unbound. It was the most movement he’d ever been afforded on the bench. He rested his cheek against the piss-soaked leather.

He wasn’t even conscious that he’d extended his tongue and lapped at a stray drop until the taste of Argent’s piss burst on his tongue. Derek withdrew his tongue quickly, but he wasn’t half as disgusted with himself as he would have been an hour ago because in this moment, it didn’t taste like Argent, it tasted like potential freedom.

In the dark his mind raced, his battered senses sought the hidden door he knew now was there somewhere until finally exhausted he fell asleep. His last conscious thought a hopeless prayer this time it would be dreamless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... Just shy of a year...
> 
> Well, I did give you twenty-eight pages of chapter when I came back.
> 
> Thank you for reading and special thanks to those of you who continued to send me kudos and encouraging reviews during my absence.
> 
> Oh, and if you're interested...
> 
> The song by Lily Allen: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E0CazRHB0so
> 
> Stiles' reference of Eurydice: 
> 
> "Eurydice was the wife of Orpheus, who loved her dearly; on their wedding day, he played joyful songs as his bride danced through the meadow. One day, Aristaeus saw and pursued Eurydice, who stepped on a viper, was bitten, and died instantly. 
> 
> Distraught, Orpheus played and sang so mournfully that all the nymphs and deities wept and told him to travel to the Underworld to retrieve her, which he gladly did. After his music softened the hearts of Hades and Persephone, his singing so sweet that even the Erinyes wept, he was allowed to take her back to the world of the living. In another version, Orpheus played his lyre to put Cerberus, the guardian of Hades, to sleep, after which Eurydice was allowed to return with Orpheus to the world of the living. 
> 
> Either way, the condition was attached that he must walk in front of her and not look back until both had reached the upper world. Soon he began to doubt that she was there, and that Hades had deceived him. Just as he reached the portals of Hades and daylight, he turned around to gaze on her face, and because Eurydice had not yet crossed the threshold, she vanished back into the Underworld."
> 
> https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eurydice


End file.
